Heaven Sent
by The-Suburban-Guy
Summary: AU preceeding the main story of Supernatural. Sam and Dean are kids (4 and 8) when John dies during a hunt. They end up in the care of their Uncle Castiel and learn how to be a family again after their loss.
1. The Grocery Trip

**Chapter 1: The Grocery Trip**

Dean knew Sam hated thunderstorms. Of course it had to rain non-stop the last four days, with storms during three of them. Dean hated Seattle, he wished Dad would've chosen somewhere else to hunt. But he couldn't focus on that now, he had to try to keep Sammy from freaking out-the kid was buried under a mountain of blankets and was clearly trying to hide from the cacophonous roar of the thunderstorm splitting the evening sky. Cacophonous-where did he know that word from? Who knows, probably some old school a few states ago.

"Sammy," Dean walked over to the mountain, lifting up some of the blankets to see his four year old little brother curled into a ball with his eyes shut tight. They were red, he'd been crying. "Come on, it's just a storm." He sighed, sitting down and knowing that Sam would want to try to cuddle again. Dean didn't mind helping Sam feel safe, but he wasn't two anymore-he shouldn't be scared of storms.

"Dean, I don't like the storm. It's too loud and the lightning is too scary. I want it to stop."

"Well, I can't control the weather." Dean quipped, then looked down at his brother. "But I guess if you want to hug again I can do it." Sam's small face brightened as he came over to Dean's side and put his face against his stomach. "But seriously, Sammy, you're gonna have to get over this eventually." Dean stated, not loving the overly affectionate nature of the situation.

He silently sighed as he lay in the bed and started to rub Sam's back as the younger boy drifted off to sleep. Dean looked across the room to a wall clock. It was just past midnight. His father would be home in the morning according to what he'd said earlier. Then they'd finally leave Seattle and get somewhere where Sam didn't break down crying every night.

That morning the rain had stopped, but the clouds remained. The weather lady on television had said that the storms were over and that the rest of the week would be cloudy, but dry. This appeared to help Sammy finally calm down, so Dean decided he could throw on some cartoons to keep him busy and make them both breakfast. After flipping through a few channels Dean found some re-run of Scooby Doo and plopped Sam down in front of the TV. While he was laughing along to the cartoon dog's antics Dean searched the cabinets for food.

Dad normally stocked up whenever they got somewhere new, but this time he hadn't. Apparently the hunt was too important to wait so he simply left the old boxes and cans from the last place on the table and gave Dean money to order pizza or go shopping with. Well, it looked like Dean would have to go shopping soon if Dad didn't get back. The only food left was a can of raviolis and a half bag of Captain Crunch-with no milk. He sighed, pouring the ravioli into a bowl and putting it in the microwave on the kitchenette counter. After it heated he took it and the cereal and sat beside Sam.

"Hey Sammy, cereal or Chef Boyardee?" He held up the two options, momentarily distracting the younger boy from the television set.

"I don't want that. I want eggs and toast."

"Well we don't have eggs and toast. Besides, you know Dad says we aren't allowed to use the stove when he isn't here."

"I WANT EGGS AND TOAST." The younger brother repeated, much louder the second time. Dean had had enough.

"WE DON'T HAVE IT." He shouted back, "NOW EAT SOME CEREAL AND SHUT UP!" Dean tossed the cereal at Sam and huffed over to the table to eat by himself. He didn't care if the box had spilled, Sam would still eat it. He didn't have to clean it up…

Dean's thoughts were interrupted by crying as Sammy started to bawl. Sammy was sensitive and Dean knew it. He couldn't get mad at him for stupid stuff like this, even if he deserved it. "Sammy, come on…" Dean walked back over to Sam and sat down, reaching out an arm to try to comfort him. Sam swatted his hand away.

"No! You're mean and I don't want to have cereal!" Sam stated, looking at the mess on the floor from the spilled box. His face was bright red and his eyes were watering.

"Sammy come on, when Dad gets home we'll leave here and go somewhere else. Tomorrow we'll have eggs for breakfast-okay?" Dean was trying his best to be a nurturer, but he really was annoyed at the hissy fit his brother was throwing.

That seemed to calm Sam down a bit, and Dean felt some relief. After a few minutes it was as if the tantrum never happened, Sam was shoving tiny handfuls of cereal straight from the box to his mouth and seemed content enough. Dean looked up at the clock and saw it was a bit past nine, Dad should be home soon, his father was never late.

By three Dean was getting worried. His father was never late. He decided to try to page him. Dad had a pager with him for emergencies, and Dean had the number memorized. After using a chair to reach the telephone on the wall Dean punched out the number and waited for the call to connect. When it went through he punched in the return number and hung up. He wished his father had a cell phone so they could talk, but with the expense of owning one and the limited battery life it made more sense to have a pager.

After hanging up the phone Dean decided that he and Sam would have to go out to get more food. They'd finished everything for breakfast and Sammy was getting cranky without lunch. "Come on, we're going out to get some food. Get ready, I'm going to leave Dad a note." He told Sam as he sat down. Dean struggled with writing, he read fine, but he didn't like how the pencil felt in his hands. He could never seem to get the letters to look completely right and got tired after writing only a few sentences. He kept the note short:

Dad, Sam and I went to get food. Will be back soon.-Dean

He then wrote the date and time on the bottom, something his father told him he always had to do when they left notes for each other.

After hauling Sam out of the motel room and across the parking lot Dean looked around, trying to remember if he'd seen any grocery stores nearby. He thought there was one somewhere around here, but he didn't remember where. He'd have to pick a direction and guess. He chose left and followed the sidewalk as it led down the wide street. After about fifteen minutes they reached a small strip-mall with a supermarket.

"Thank God." He sighed, not wanting to have to admit he was wrong and turn around. He boosted Sam into a cart and grabbed the handle, having to reach up, and pushed the cart through the automatic doors. Inside the store was relatively busy-it was a Saturday, after all-and Dean didn't like all the strangers being so close to him without his Dad around. He pushed on, and after bypassing the produce department he stopped at the deli case and grabbed some sliced cheese and bologna.

"Dad gave us fifty bucks. We can't buy everything, but we can get a couple of things. What do we need?" Dean looked at Sam, who had grabbed a handful of twist-ties and was making stick figures to play with.

"I dunno. Dad always just gets whatever." Sam shrugged.

"Alright, well, whatever it is." Dean snarked, causing Sam to laugh slightly.

He pushed the cart through the aisles, grabbing a few cans here and there, as well as some snacks his dad usually didn't get-like Pringles and Lil' Debbies-and the cart was half full when he pulled into the checkout lane. Dean hoped he had enough money, he hadn't grabbed too many things but it would be embarrassing to have to put some things back on the shelf. When he got to the register and started unloading the woman checking them out smiled, "Helping Mom and Dad unload the cart while they grab a few things?"

"No. It's just us." Dean said, coldly. He hated being talked down to by grown-ups, especially ones that treated him like he was Sammy's age.

"Okay…" The woman seemed to react for a second before continuing to ring up the groceries. Dean wasn't sure what she felt, her emotions quickly hid under a veil that comes with decades of working in retail. A few minutes later she revealed that the total was $48.33. Dean breathed a sigh of relief, they had enough money. He took the two twenties and the ten out of his pocket to pay before a man stooped down next to him and Sam.

"Hey guys, where are your mom and dad?" The man was wearing a tie in addition to the store nametag, so Dean guessed he was in charge.

"Dad's at work and he told us to get a few things." Dean wasn't exactly lying-Dad was at work.

The man smiled, looking concerned. "Do you have a number to reach him at? We don't want you kids just on your own."

Dean rolled his eyes. No way in hell he was giving this guy his Dad's pager number. "We can handle ourselves. Mind your own business and leave us alone." Dean was getting mad and Sam was no longer distracted by his twist-ties.

"Dean, I'm hungry, can we go now?"

"Once this guy lets me pay we'll leave." Dean scowled-or at least tried to-causing the man to stand back up and leave. Dean gave the checkout woman the money, pocketed the change and pushed the cart out of the store. Screw them, he'd normally return the cart and carry the groceries, but if they were going to get nosy he could be rude and make them go on a goose chase for a shopping cart.


	2. Too Long

**Chapter 2: Too Long**

Dean had already called Dad's pager six times. Normally once would have been enough for him to come home and check on the boys. He was worried. It had been two days since their trip to the grocery store and Dean was panicking. Dad was never gone this long. He had to get help.

Dean knew better than to call the police, but he didn't know who to call. He could try to call another hunter, but he didn't know anyone's phone numbers. Dad had left his bag in the room with him and Sam, maybe there was something useful there-a phone number for someone or the name of some place to go…

His father's bag was mostly empty aside from clothes. There wasn't much else in the large duffle apart from a shaving kit and a road atlas. Dean collapsed, his father wasn't here and he had no idea what to do. He knew he couldn't take care of Sam on his own, but he didn't have any clue on what he should do next. Sammy was upset, he thought Dad might be dead because he wasn't back. Dean knew that couldn't be true-his Dad had been on tons of hunts and never gotten anything more serious than a few scratches, he was fine, it was just taking longer than he had thought…

There was a knock on the door as Dean was zipping back up his father's duffle. It wasn't his father's knock-it was just simply three taps in a row. Maybe it was another hunter? Dad could've asked Bobby to come watch them up, it had happened once where he was stranded in a storm and had Bobby watch them until he got back. Dean slowly cracked the door open, sure not to break the salt line. Outside stood a police officer. He quickly slammed the door shut.

"Sam! There's a cop at the door!" He shouted. Sam bolted up from his coloring page and ran to the bathroom, Dean decided to follow. He couldn't escape-the door was the only way out. If they hid maybe the cop would leave.

There was another knock on the door. "Boys, my name is Eric Hanley, I'm with the Seattle Police Department. I have news about your father, please open the door. I promise I won't hurt you." His voice sounded genuine, but Dean knew better. The cop could be a demon, or even if he was a cop he could be lying to try to trick them to come out so he could take them away from Dad.

"No!" Sam shouted before Dean clamped his hand over his mouth.

"Quiet! We can't let him hear us." He hissed.

"Boys, please. I understand you don't trust me. I'm going to slide something under the door, it's from your father." Dean heard a rustle as a small slip of paper slid under the motel room door.

"Stay here, it might be a trap." Dean motioned for Sam to stay in the tub. He crept out of the bathroom and picked up the paper before scurrying back to Sam.

"What does it say?"

"I don't know. Let me read it."

Dean flipped the paper around to face him before trying to read the note. It was his father's handwriting, but it looked jerkier than usual.

Boys,

I'm so sorry. This hunt got the best of me. Please be good. I don't think I'm going to make it. I love you both. To whoever finds this, please get my boys. They're at the Satellite Motel, room 112.

John Winchester

Dean stared at the paper for a minute before he realized he was crying. A tear had fallen from his face and landed on the paper, making a small drop beneath the note.

"Dean, is it bad?" Sam looked up at him, still crouched in the bathtub.

"Sammy, Dad's dead."

After Dean let the police officer in he told the boys that they had found their father's body in an alley, seemingly attacked by a wild animal. Dean knew it had been the werewolf Dad was hunting. He must've been ambushed and not been able to fight it off. Sam was crying the entire time, snot running out of his nose as he pulled all the blankets off the bed and hid in the closet, wishing that he could hide from reality if no one could see him. Dean tried to comfort him, but didn't get very far before Sammy started wailing even louder. Dean decided that Sam might need to cry-it might help him calm down a bit.

"Can you boys pack up your things? Or do you want me to help? We're going to bring you to the station for a little bit before your uncle can talk with you, and we won't be coming back here."

Uncle? They had an uncle? "Our uncle?" Dean asked, hesitantly.

"Yes, your uncle Castiel has come forward in order to take care of you. He lives in Oregon and drove the whole way in order to meet you." The police officer sadly smiled, wishing he could give more comfort to the two young boys who had suddenly become orphans. "He seems nice, if a little odd, I'm sure he will love you both."

Dean couldn't stand it. Dad couldn't be dead. It was a lie, some shape shifter took his form and died… or maybe it was a doppelganger… or… or… Dean fell to his knees and started wailing as loudly as Sam, he didn't care what the police officer thought. He wanted his Dad back and he wasn't going to get him back.

Dean and Sam sat in a small room on a worn green sofa. It was a lounge in the police station. There was a TV and some books but neither brother wanted to do anything except hold each other. Their bags, like their father, lay on the ground. Everything reminded Dean of Dad. But he had to be strong. He had to take care of Sammy. He'd cried in the room and it was a mistake, he had to keep it together so that Sammy would be okay.

A knock was heard on the door as a female officer opened the door. "Hello boys, my name is Judy. I'm sorry about what happened, but I do have someone here who's here to meet you." She paused for a moment to step aside and let a man in. "This is your uncle Castiel."

Castiel stepped into the room. He was taller than Dean had expected, a bit taller than their father even. He had straight brown hair and light blue eyes. He appeared to work in some sort of office-Dean guessed-based on his clothes, a black suit with a tan trench coat over it. He looked kind enough, but Dean didn't read much emotion in his face.

"Hello, I am your uncle Castiel." He stooped down to the boys' level. "You must be Sam and Dean."


	3. Oregon

**Chapter 3: Oregon**

It had taken all night to get everything settled with the police. Castiel had stayed with the boys in the waiting room, attempting to make some type of conversation. He felt somewhat guilty having to lie to them like this, but it was imperative to take care of the Winchesters if the world had any chance once Dean was ready to be a vessel. He had been given knowledge of human child-rearing before his departure to earth, though he still struggled immensely with most human customs and found he was quite awkward around them. He had been chosen to be their guardian angel-literally-and knew that if he was to get Dean ready he needed to ensure his and Sam's safety and well-being, which required being much closer to humans than he was used to. It would only last a few years, which were nothing to him, but it still made him somewhat-what was the word humans used for this feeling-anxious to have to do it.

When the morning came Castiel was told that he could leave with the boys, though there would be a visit from child welfare sometime soon to check in that everything was okay. "That is perfectly acceptable given the circumstances." He replied, assured he had handled the situation correctly. The man's face however made him slightly doubt that, Castiel made a mental note that he had to get better at gauging emotions-perhaps more interactions would help with this.

"Come Sam and Dean, I have the car ready outside." He led the two small boys out of the station, carrying a large duffle bag that had once belonged to their father. He lamented the death of John Winchester. It was not supposed to have happened like this. Somehow they had momentarily lapsed in watching over him and he had been killed. Nonetheless the plan had been adjusted with him as the new guardian, so he followed orders. He looked down at the two young boys, knowing that this loss would be difficult for them to overcome. Human children were especially vulnerable to negative emotions, and something as traumatic as this would surely cause anger and sadness.

Dean appeared calm, but his irritated eyes and overly confident posture indicated a deep sense of loss and sadness, he also appeared to be burying this under anger-perhaps directed at him? Castiel was unsure, and knew not what to do to calm the boy. Sam, however, appeared much more open with his emotions-of which Castiel was unsure to be appreciative or intimidated. The young boy had cried the entire evening, even once he had run out of tears he continued to sob on his brother's chest. A gentle hand appeared to calm him, but he appeared quite distressed still. Castiel wondered how long it would take until the boys were both calm, he found dealing with emotions taxing.

As he helped the two boys into the car Castiel looked at the car seats he had bought the previous day. He hoped they would work, being unsure of the boys' heights he had to guess.

Dean pulled himself up into the car and sat down on a booster seat. Dad never forced him to use a booster, it was humiliating. He wasn't a baby.

"Dean, do you require assistance to buckle yourself in?"

"No." Dean didn't like Castiel. He wasn't his Dad and he never would be even close. If he didn't have to he wouldn't talk to him, and if he had to, he would say as little as possible.

"Do you require assistance, Sam?" Castiel turned to Sam who was sitting in a car seat, staring confused at the buckles.

"I need help." Sam said, confused about what Castiel had asked. Castiel used a lot of big words and seemed weird, but he also seemed kind of nice. Sam was absolutely devastated about Dad, but maybe Castiel would be okay.

As Castiel leaned in to help with the straps Dean quickly leaned over and did them for Sam. He glared at Castiel, _Sam wouldn't need his help. Sam had Dean to help him_. Castiel took this aggression as a sign of anger and decided that he would need to talk to Dean about it later, it was bad for children to hold onto anger for extended periods of time-it could cause a number of problems.

The trip from Seattle to North Plains took just over four hours. The ride was mostly silent, Castiel had no reason to listen to human music-he found most of it difficult to tolerate-and the boys seemed too emotional to speak to him, though he found that Dean occasionally comforted Sam. Good, he could use assistance with emotional support and it was difficult for Castiel to even mimic the motions Dean was doing.

Castiel's vessel had been a realtor named William Fredrickson. When Castiel had approached Will about his purpose the man had whole heartedly agreed to be his vessel. His vessel was a devout single man and had lived a modest life in a small apartment not far from his work. Thankfully it had been easy enough to arrange a new house for Castiel and the two Winchesters to live in, the others had worked to create a convincing identity and past for Castiel before went to get the boys. He would carry on Will's job, albeit with a name change in a new town, but he knew he had to work in order to appear normal. He found it tedious to do so, but simply bringing into existence anything he needed would be a red flag to the two boys that he was not human. He must not let them know of that fact in any circumstance, regardless of how dire.

The house was in a small community to the north of town. The neighborhood consisted of newly built homes and had a number of families with children similar in age to Sam and Dean. According to his instruction, it was extremely beneficial for the boys to socialize with children their age. Perhaps Castiel would attempt to introduce himself to the neighbors after the boys had settled, it would be a logical way to determine if any of them could become friends for the two boys.

As the car pulled into the driveway Castiel thought it was appropriate to welcome the boys to their new residence, "Sam, Dean, this is your new home. I hope you will come to find it a place of comfort and happiness." Dean simply ignored Castiel and unbuckled Sam and himself before opening the car door and slamming it shut. Sam appeared somewhat grateful, if hesitant to respond, never having had a single place to call home.

Castiel unloaded the bags from the trunk and unlocked the front door, where Dean was waiting with his hands in his pockets. As soon as the door was open Dean huffed inside, ignoring Castiel's attempt to speak to him. _Place_ _looked alright, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that Sammy was okay_, and at the moment he was. _But if this Cas guy decides to be a jerk and mess with Sammy he's going to pay._

Sam walked in after Dean, looking around at the house for a moment before speaking. "Uncle Castiel, thank you. I'm sorry 'bout Dean, we both miss our Dad but he doesn't like to talk about 'feelings and junk'…" Sam latched onto Castiel's leg, momentarily surprising the angel, "Thank you for taking care of us."

Castiel looked down at the small child who appeared to have again begun to cry. He clearly was upset of the death of his father, but was still attempting to be optimistic about his new home. Humans were very strange with their emotions, they could seemingly feel two contradictory things at once. Castiel decided to try to mimic Dean's calming touch, gently forming his hand into an open palm he pressed lightly-children were susceptible to injury much more easily than adults-and made a small circle on the boy's back. It appeared to help bring him to a less heightened state. He would have to continue to observe Dean's interactions with his brother, it appeared he knew how to keep the boy feeling well.

Dean had already discovered one of the bedrooms upstairs. Neither Castiel nor the other angels had known what to do in order to prepare a home for children, so after a bit of research-mostly a collection of home interior magazines-they decided to simply copy exactly one of the bedrooms in the catalog. The picture had showed a small boy about Dean's age happily playing with a toy train, so they chose it as his room. It was a decent sized room with green walls. A wooden bunk bed was against the far wall, with a dresser and desk on the opposite side. Plaid curtains matched the bedspread, and a small chest stocked with the most popular toys for boys Dean's age sat at the bottom of the bunk bed. It surprised Dean the effort that Cas must have gone through, he didn't have kids of his own, so he must have gotten this all ready before coming up to meet them.

Dean walked out to the hall to see the other rooms. Next door Sam was already settling into his room. It was also copied from a magazine, his seemed to be themed on racecars, with a large plastic car as a bed sitting in the middle of the room.

"Wow." Dean couldn't completely hide his surprise. Cas had gone all out. Maybe the guy wasn't entirely bad, just really weird.

"Dean! My bed's a racing car!" Sam excitedly bounced up and down on the mattress.

"Stop it! You'll break your skull." Dean frowned, as Sam sat down. "How are you happy?! We're only here because Dad is DEAD. His funeral is in a few days, Sammy. We're orphans. Both are parents are dead!" Dean screamed. He couldn't believe how little his brother cared about Dad. _He already had lost Mom, he couldn't handle losing Dad too_…

Sam looked down for a minute before he started to cry, snorting and trying to talk at the same time, "I'm sorry… I don't want you to be mad at me… I just thought Uncle Castiel was nice… and… I miss Dad, but Uncle Castiel okay…. And I thought maybe this won't be terrible…" Sam was on the verge of a breakdown and Dean felt terrible.

Dean quickly sat beside Sam on the bed, realizing how he'd made his brother feel made him feel awful. "Sammy, I'm sorry… look," he hugged his brother, something he rarely did now that he was eight, "I just got mad because I miss Mom and Dad… Uncle Cas seems alright, and it will be okay here. We've still got each other, and I'll always keep you safe."

Sam stopped shaking and looked up at his big brother, his eyes still sparkling from the tears he'd shed earlier. "I love you Dean."

Dean sighed, "I love you too. Now get off and stop crying. He'll hear us and think we have to go to therapy or some crap because we're depressed." Dean pushed Sam off him and watched as his brother rubbed his eyes dry. Good, the tears had stopped.

Castiel had heard the entire conversation from his bedroom at the end of the hallway. He suddenly felt something in his chest he never had experienced before, a slight burning sensation and a momentary tightness. He would have to do research on this. He made another mental note as he returned to his book, "Dr. Spock's Baby and Child Care for the Nineties".


	4. Adjustments

**Chapter 4: Adjustments**

Because Castiel did not need sleep he was acutely aware of when the first Winchester woke up. Dean had gotten out of bed shortly after seven and went to check on Sam's room. Sam was still asleep, so he had returned to his room. Castiel thought it may be a good time to begin to prepare sustenance for the children. Growing boys needed 1400-1600 calories daily to be healthy, as well as a balanced diet of plants and animal based products to meet their bodies' demands. He had read a few books on dietary planning as well as proper cooking techniques the previous evening and hoped that the information would assist him in keeping the boys well fed.

Operating household appliances was a bizarre experience for Castiel. He did not understand why humans had to overcomplicate everything. If all he wanted to do was cook an egg, why should there be so many different switches and dials? Why not just make one labeled 'egg'? He was frustrated, as he knew it would be a giveaway if the Winchesters saw him struggling with the appliances. Few humans his age would struggle to use a stove. He decided he would study the manuals later that day to make sure he knew how to use them thoroughly. For now, he appeared to have gotten the burner on and placed a greased pan on it (apparently greasing a pan was important, nearly every recipe mentioned it). He then cracked an egg into the pan and watched it sizzle. Mercifully the toaster was a much simpler appliance, all he had to do was push down a small lever and the device made bread slightly crisp, as most humans prefer it with their breakfasts.

When he had made three plates of food (as it would be odd to the boys if he did not eat) he went upstairs to tell them that breakfast had been prepared. Dean was in his room, awake, looking at the ceiling. He appeared to be deep in thought. Castiel wished he had the ability to read Dean's mind and so engage him better, but seeing as he was not a seraph, he simply told him good morning, "Hello Dean. I have prepared a breakfast for us downstairs. It is eggs and toast with an option of bacon."

He attempted to smile cheerfully, mimicking the muscle movements of some humans he had seen, but based on how Dean's eyes grew wide he may have accidentally scared the child. Castiel quickly relaxed the muscles in his face as he went to Sam's room. The younger boy was still asleep in his bed, though he had gotten nearly ten hours of sleep the night before. Due to this Castiel decided it was time to wake him up for breakfast.

"Sam, it is your Uncle Castiel. I would like you to awake from your slumber. I have prepared a meal and would like the three of us to dine together." Castiel stood with his face inches from Sam's sleeping body, causing him to jump slightly when he awoke.

"Uncle Castiel, can you back up a bit. You're really close."

Castiel realized that humans were quite protective of their personal boundaries and remembered that one of the books he had read mentioned the concept of a child's personal space 'bubble'. He had figured it referred to their aura, but it appeared he had misinterpreted the information.

"I apologize, I had forgotten your 'bubble'." He took a small step back, leaning up. "Come Sam, it is time to eat."

Breakfast had gone well, with Dean and Sam both enjoying Castiel's surprisingly good cooking. After the meal Castiel informed the Winchesters that he was going to take them to school to be registered.

"I understand that Sam is too young for kindergarten, but the school does offer a pre-kindergarten program that I will register him for. You Dean, will be registered for the third grade." Castiel addressed Dean as he helped Sam tie his sneakers. "Let us go to the school. We must not waste time, I have an appointment for you both this morning."

The town was quite small, and as a result the school was also much smaller than the ones Dean was used to. Dad usually enrolled him for a few weeks or months here and there as they moved around. He did okay, but never really bothered because he knew he'd be somewhere else soon enough. Here, however, he realized he was going to be staying-so he had to make a good first impression-it mattered that the other kids like him, he wouldn't be able to blow them off and try again with the next group.

The one story brick building had a small playground enclosed in a chain link fence. As Castiel parked the car Dean looked at the play equipment and saw a few children running around. They looked about his age, so he figured it made sense to be polite in case they ended up as his classmates. He waved as Castiel walked him and Sam to the main door, a girl returned his greeting and smiled. Inside the school was quite simple. A single hallway divided the building, with one room for each grade, a combination gym/cafeteria/auditorium at the end, and a small office directly in front of the entry doors. Castiel escorted Sam and Dean to the office and motioned for them to sit down in some of the wait chairs while he spoke to the receptionist.

"Hello, I am Castiel Winchester. I have an appointment to register my nephews Dean and Sam."

The woman smiled, "Mr. Winchester, yes, you're right on time."It was exactly 9:15. "Principal Martin is in his office, why don't you and the boys go to meet him. I'm sure he'll be pleased."

She gestured towards the door behind her. Castiel nodded politely, refraining from trying to smile, as he assumed it would have a similar result on her as Dean. Sam and Dean sat side-by-side with Castiel on the end in front of a small wooden desk. Like the rest of the school the principal's office was also quite small, barely having enough room for all three of them along with the principal and few pieces of furniture in the room.

"So, Mr. Winchester, I see you've just recently moved to the area…" He glanced at the admissions paperwork Castiel had submitted. "And that your two nephews are going to be are newest pupils here at North Plains Elementary." He smiled at the boys. "I'm sure you two are going to do just great here. I do have a few questions, however, about Dean's education. It looks like he has attended nineteen different schools, many in vastly different parts of the country."

Dean cringed. He was unsure if Cas knew about hunting or his father, and if he did, he certainly didn't want his principal thinking his family was nuts by hearing about the supernatural before he even started classes…

"His father was a professional hunter, often moving from area to area to follow the big game. As a result, Dean and Sam followed him and Dean was enrolled in the schools in the area. Now that their father has passed," Castiel paused, "I have been given their charge, and I fully intend to have them enrolled here for the foreseeable future."

Did Cas know about his Dad? It made sense, they were brothers…

"I'm sorry to hear about your loss. Boys, I certainly hope if you need anything you feel comfortable letting someone know. Our guidance councilor, Mrs. Beckett, would be more than willing to listen if you ever need to talk to someone."

After the brief interview Sam and Dean had to go to the library and take a few tests while Castiel filled out paperwork, apparently the application form was just the beginning to enroll the boys. Given his limited knowledge of their medical history he knew he would have to take them to a doctor soon to see if they were up to date on everything.

While Sam sat on a rug and got to identify colors and letters Dean had to work on a packet. There were a bunch of different parts, some of them were timed-the woman helping him would use a stopwatch-but most of it wasn't bad. That was, until the last two pages. There were two blank pages at the end of the packet with a small box at the top containing a writing prompt. Dean hated writing, especially when he had to do a lot of it, and two full pages would be a lot.

"Can I skip this part?" He looked at the proctor, who he would later learn was Mrs. Beckett.

"I want you to try your best on every part of the test. If you need a break before we do the last part, that's fine. We can take a five minute break and you can get some water." She smiled. "A lot of kids have trouble with one part of the test or another, so far you've been doing pretty well!"

Dean smiled, he'd never been told he was particularly bright, especially by a teacher. Usually they didn't get a chance to know him well enough for him to make an impression before they moved on. He took her up on the water break and then tried to answer the first prompt. By the time he was finished half the sheet his hand felt like it was on fire. He wanted to write a lot more. He knew the words he wanted to say, but his hand didn't let him say them right. He sighed as he put the pencil down and rubbed his wrist.

"Are you okay Dean?"

"I'm fine. My hand just hurts when I write."

She looked concerned for a minute before asking, "Does it always feel like that, or just right now because it's a test?"

"Any time I write it feels bad."

"Does it ever feel odd when you do other things?" Dean didn't know why she asked, but figured he might as well be honest, maybe he could get out of writing if she knew.

"Whenever I try to be really careful with my hands-like eating or tying my shoes or playing with Legos. Then it kind of hurts, but not as bad as with writing."

"Do you want me to write the rest of your response for you?" She pointed at the paper where Dean's handwriting had broken down into scribbles shortly after the third line.

"Yes please."

After rewriting what he had written, Dean finished saying his response to the first question, then dictated his response to the second one. Sam had finished earlier on and was now happily flipping through a picture book while sitting in a chair in the corner of the library.

"You are a very articulate little boy." Mrs. Beckett complimented Dean, impressed that he had picked up so easily on the theme of the story-something many children his age found tricky.

"I'm not little." Dean stated, but realized he shouldn't get mad-this woman wasn't insulting him, it was a compliment, "But, thank you."


	5. So it Begins

**Chapter 5: So it Begins**

The next few days went by fairly smoothly, with Castiel preparing food and watching the boys, and Sam and Dean gradually adjusting to the clinical, but well-meaning stranger they now had as their guardian. When Monday arrived it was time for school and Castiel knew that he too would have to "work" that day as well. He had read the real estate guidelines for the state and had picked up a few books on strategies to sell homes. It seemed straightforward enough, and he did not actually have to worry, as there was no stress linked to a monetary shortage-as would be the case with a human taking on the task. He would be able to provide regardless, as reality could be bent to his needs-though he must not do it more often than needed, lest the Winchesters become suspicious.

Castiel dropped Sam and Dean off at the entrance of the school with the other parents and waved at them as they headed in, it was a strange custom-to gesticulate the arm wildly above the elbow-but it seemed to put the boys at ease as they walked in. Dean made sure Sam got to his room, then walked to his own. The school building was so small it took less than a minute to walk from one end to the other, but it still felt difficult being apart. Dean was used to going to school, but with all the hunts Dad used to go on he was more often in the motel looking after Sam than waiting to meet up at the end of the school day.

"Good morning everyone! We have a new student with us today! This is Dean Winchester. Dean, would you like to tell everyone a bit about yourself before you get settled?" The teacher, a man in his thirties named Mr. Henkel, had asked Dean to wait up front before class so he could make a proper introduction. He didn't mind, the class was only eleven other kids, so there was nothing to be nervous about-not that he had a problem with public speaking, that was more Sammy's problem. It was the same class he had seen on the day they registered, he recognized the girl with red hair sitting in the back as the one who had waved at him from the playground.

"Hello, I'm Dean… I'm from Kansas, but my Dad traveled a lot for his job so I've lived a lot of different places. But now I live with my uncle Cas, so I guess we'll be here for a while." Dean wasn't too sure of what to say, no matter how many times he'd given the 'new kid' speech it always was a bit difficult to know what to say.

"What do you like to do when you aren't in school, do you play any sports or do something else interesting you'd like to share?" Mr. Henkel encouraged.

"Well, I did play baseball last year and that was good, and I guess besides that I just like to watch TV and listen to Zeppelin. They kick butt." Dean smiled a bit when he mentioned his favorite band, it was something he'd recently discovered with the help of Dad…

Mr. Henkel chuckled, "Very good Dean, why don't you take a seat. We have a couple of empty ones, so feel free to pick."

Dean saw a few in the middle rows of desks, and eventually decided on one in between a blonde boy with glasses and a girl wearing a denim jacket. Unfortunately there weren't any near the girl with red hair. Oh well, he'd just have to talk to her during lunch…

The pre-k room had even fewer students than Dean's class. Sam didn't mind, he just liked being around kids his own age. With all the traveling they did he rarely got to make friends, and while Dean was great, it would be nice to play with other kids who didn't call him a baby when he couldn't understand something.

The teacher had a free play time in the morning, so Sam decided to try to make a few friends. He saw an African-American girl with her hair in pigtails playing with a pile of blocks in the corner. He decided she looked friendly and walked over to say hello. "Hi, I'm Sam. I'm new here. Can I play with you?" He pointed at the pile of blocks and smiled.

She smiled back, "Hi Sam, I'm Carol. Sure, I'm building a castle for my princess doll. If you want when we finish the castle you can be the king." She held up a G.I. Joe with a missing arm. "He lost his arm to a dragon!"

"Radical!" Sam smiled, he'd recently learned the word from Dean and was trying to use it to sound like one of the big kids.

After playing with Carol the teacher, Ms. Gina, rounded up Sam and the other four students and had them sit on the carpet. After a brief good morning song they went over a letter of the day and practiced the alphabet and counting to ten. Sam was good at it, he always pestered Dean to look at his homework and Dean usually ended up explaining most of it to him. Sam knew he couldn't read yet, but he could identify most of the letters and numbers he saw.

Castiel arrived at the real estate office and parked his car in the empty spot along the front wall. He had already been employed here for a few months, according to the records and memories of the other employees-courtesy of the angels' manipulation-but as this was his first actual day working there he could not help but wonder what would happen. After greeting the receptionist he sat down in a cubicle with his name on it. He felt that despite the fact that he had been alive for millennia that this day was going to feel much slower than the others.

He answered a few phone calls about homes in the area and left for a home he was scheduled to show to a young couple. It was a ranch style home in need of work, but it was in a good neighborhood and a good bargain. Castiel's frank but polite manner seemed to work well for the couple, and when he mentioned he felt there may be wiring problems (angels could feel electricity) they seemed quite appreciative. He had not closed the deal, but they said they would , "Put it near the top of their list." And wanted to see a few more homes in the area before putting down an offer anywhere.

After school Castiel picked up Sam and Dean, and given that both boys appeared in good spirits decided that he should capitalize on that and offer something as a way to commemorate their first day. "Given that you both appear quite glad I feel it would be appropriate if we celebrate your first day of school here. If you would like there is a pizza parlor eleven minutes away I can drive to and we can have pizza for dinner."

"Sure, that sounds good." Dean replied, thinking how Cas may not be all that bad. "I'm gonna eat way more than you, Sammy!" He turned to his brother, playfully rubbing his hair. Castiel took note of the action, but would have to observe the context more often to be sure enough to use it.

"No way! I'm going to eat way more than you!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Uh-huh!"

The boys playfully argued until they arrived at the parlor, and Dean even let Castiel unbuckle Sam. He was making progress, hopefully he could continue to do well.


	6. The Funeral

**Chapter 6: The Funeral**

The funeral was on Wednesday. John E. Winchester had died on October 11, 1987. He was buried ten days later.

There were few people in attendance at the small church in Lawrence. Castiel had flown out with Sam and Dean-who had desperately tried to latch onto the boarding ramp's doorway because of his fear of flying. When they arrived in the church Dean looked around. It had never occurred to him how small their family was, but looking around at the funeral there was only a handful of people. A few distant relatives-cousins once removed-mingled in the back, but as Mom was an only child and Dad and Cas were the only siblings in their family, it was a small crowd. Soon after they sat down the door opened again, and in came Bobby.

"Bobby!" Sam shouted, leaping from the pew and running to latch onto the leg of his favorite father-figure.

"Hey Sam." He smiled, sadness in his eyes. _How could you do this to your boys, John?_ _Don't you know how much it hurts them right now? Why the hell did you go after that thing and not even consider asking someone for help?_

Dean walked over to greet Bobby, and Castiel followed closely behind.

"Hi Bobby." Dean looked up, barely holding back tears. He'd been trying to keep himself from crying. He knew he wasn't a little kid and shouldn't be crying in public, Sammy could still, but he'd been trying to keep Sammy distracted until they brought in the body for the viewing.

"Hey ya Dean. Come here." Bobby scooped up Dean and held him against his knee as he bent down. "I know you don't like being held, but don't fight me. You're a strong kid, but you can cry now. No one will judge you."

With that Dean began to bawl, and Sam quickly followed. Bobby soothed them both, gently placing a hand on Dean's shoulder and rubbing Sam's back as Dean had before. Castiel noted how different gestures worked better on the two Winchesters and made a mental note to try comforting Dean as Bobby had. Castiel thought it was appropriate to introduce himself, as it was likely Bobby was wondering who he was and why he was with the two boys.

"Hello Bobby, my name is Castiel. I am-or I suppose was-John's brother. I am looking after the boys now after the unfortunate passing of my brother." He stuck out his hand in order to commence a 'handshake' as he had learned in a book regarding proper etiquette for various social situations.

Bobby seemed a bit put off at Castiel's words. Perhaps he had said something rude unintentionally, he was aware that his blunt manner was sometimes seen as impolite. He would have to talk to Bobby later and apologize, as the pall bearers had brought in the body for the viewing.

Sam and Dean seemed relatively composed during the viewing, Castiel was impressed at how strong the two boys had been. The thought of losing a parent at such a young age was something that most children would never consider, and the reality of it was enough to send most into a state of shock or anguish. They did cry, so Castiel tried to soothe them as Bobby had. He sat between them in a pew in the front and gently squeezed Dean's shoulder whenever he appeared to be nearing tears-easily evident through the small sniffles that began moments before. Sam he comforted as before, gently making small circles on his back, though for Sam it was a constant as he was either silently sobbing or on the verge of it the duration of the funeral. Following the viewing the body was loaded into a hearse and driven to the cemetery where Mary had been buried. There was a fresh grave dug beside hers, the tombstone reading thus:

"John E. Winchester

b. June 6, 1954 d. October 11, 1987

Father and husband. He loved his family more than himself. He will be missed dearly."

Castiel felt the epitaph was appropriate for John, he knew little about human emotions, but it was evident that John had loved his family and felt the words chosen would help show that.

After the burial Castiel and the boys returned to the motel room they were staying at. Castiel had decided it was appropriate to allow the boys to change and watch television. Hopefully the entertainment would help ease them out of the sadness of the morning. As he began to prepare a lunch for the three of them he heard a knock on the door. He was not expecting visitors, as he had not invited any company over, perhaps someone was knocking on the wrong door. In any case he would be careful-it was possible someone was attempting to get into the room in order to cause harm. He went over to the door and peered through the peephole, it was the same man from the funeral he had possibly offended, Bobby.

Castiel opened the door. Bobby had changed out of his black suit and was wearing a pair of jeans and a plaid button down shirt as well as a blue baseball cap. "Hello Castiel, do you mind if we talk?" Bobby appeared to be either angry or confused-Castiel struggled with most nuanced emotions and ended up guessing how to react. In this case he decided best to let Bobby in. He was a friend of the boys and was unlikely to cause harm.

"Please come in. I apologize, I was not expecting a visitor, but I have enough food if you would like to stay and eat with us."

"That's alright, why don't we talk outside?" Bobby gestured to two of the plastic deck chairs the motel had on the patio in front of the motel room.

"Alright, that seems agreeable. Allow me to let the boys know I will be back in a moment." Castiel turned towards Sam and Dean, both engrossed in a cartoon. "Sam, Dean, I will be back soon. I am only outside talking with Bobby." Sam looked over at Castiel, Dean nodded, not turning from the television.

After closing the door Bobby pulled out a beer and offered it to Castiel. "Want a beer? I know how it feels to lose family, and while John wasn't blood he was about as close to it as anyone I know."

Castiel normally did not drink alcohol, but given that he believed it would be rude to deny the drink in the circumstances-a line from one of his books rattling through his mind-he accepted and took a sip. Bobby watched carefully as Castiel drank the beer slowly. _Well, he isn't a demon-no reaction to holy water, and he didn't flinch earlier with the handshake and I always wear a silver ring… so what the hell is this guy? I mean, surely John would've mentioned having a brother, right?_

"So Castiel, I can't help but ask, John never mentioned you in the three years I'd known him. I figure there must be some reason for that."

Castiel almost panicked for a moment before he remembered the story that he had been given in an event such as this. "John and I were never close, possibly due to our age difference. It also did not help that I was typically not very friendly toward him, as I am sure you can tell I struggle with emotions. I did love my brother, but I had trouble expressing it. When we grew up we grew apart and I lost touch until I was told my nephews were orphaned. I hope to be a good father figure for them, but have doubts in myself."

Bobby was silent, _was it possible this man was in fact John's estranged brother?_ He had one final way to see, "When you were kids how did John deal with this kind of thing? I know you lost your grandmother Agnes when you were young…"

Castiel was quiet before responding, "It was Agatha, not Agnes. John was devastated. The worst of it was that he was sick on the day of the funeral and had to remain home. Aside from that he normally did not have to deal with death. The next time there was a death in our family was after I had left home. At that point I did not attend the funeral, for I felt it would be uncomfortable to intrude again in John's life." Castiel was thankful that he had been given John's memories on earth, it was prudent of the other angels to have considered situations such as these.

Bobby was relieved, but a bit upset at John. _So, the guy had a brother-a weird brother, but a brother nonetheless-and he never even considered it important enough to mention. That's_ _pretty cold_. "So, how have things been with the boys?" He decided to try regular conversation, sure Castiel sounded like a robot, but he seemed amiable.

"Things have been going about as well as I could expect. Dean appears a bit distant, but given what happened that is understandable. Sam appears to be fine, and his teacher has commented he is doing well with the curriculum at school. Dean's teacher has asked to meet with us soon to discuss something, I think it may be related to his lack of fine motor skills. I intend to introduce them to some of our neighbors in the hopes that the boys will make friends, though I have heard Sam and Dean both mention some of their classmates positively, which gives a good indication of forming friendships in the school room if not in the neighborhood which we reside."

"Well I'm glad you have the boys' best interests at heart."

"Certainly. I intend that Sam and Dean have a fulfilling and well-adjusted childhood so that they may one day be successful in their destinies."

"Well, well-adjusted may take a while. Did your brother ever tell you what he did for a living after Mary died?"

"No, but I have determined it was some sort of hunting business, given the presence of weaponry in his vehicle and the notes in his journal regarding supernatural creatures."

Bobby was surprised at how well Castiel appeared to have taken the discovery, "Yes… John was a hunter, he went after evil sons of bitches and tried to save as many people as he could. Bastard got cocky though and that's what got him killed…"

Castiel saw Bobby's eyes begin to water, this coupled with his earlier profanity-which was inaccurate as John's parents had been married for some time prior to his conception-indicated that the man was likely quite upset. He decided it was right to comfort John's friend, "Bobby, I can see you are deeply torn over John's death. You two were close, and I can tell that the boys are also important to you-given how they reacted when you arrived. I do not mean to impose, as I do not know how long the trip would be, but I know that Thanksgiving is approaching and I believe that the boys would benefit from your presence. Would you like to be part of our gathering? I can make pie quite well, Dean has assured me, and bragging about one's cooking can often add an element of enticement beyond the simple invitation."

Bobby stared at Castiel before smiling, "Yes, I would love that."


	7. Thanksgiving

**Chapter 7: Thanksgiving**

A little over a month had passed since the funeral, and in that time Sam and Dean appeared to have adjusted well to their new life. Stability and routine were essential for developing children, and Castiel ensured that they were consistently cared for. Even with the structure of school and work there still were kinks to work out. There were nightmares about monsters coming from the windows and closet, occasional surly mornings, and brief spats between the Winchesters about seemingly trivial things-as is common for children, apparently. Castiel took these things and handled them the best he could. He was not a nurturing person-he was an angel after all-but he did his best to keep the boys calm and happy. He poured salt lines to keep out monsters, despite telling Sam multiple times how impractical it would be to scale vinyl siding in order to reach his window specifically and how his closet was full of nothing but clothes and toys; he gave Dean an extra helping of bacon at breakfast and let him pick the music on the ride to school when he was feeling upset; and when they fought he sat them down and had them rationalize their thoughts without relying on their feelings-thank God he excelled in at least one element of parenting human children.

Sam and Dean both took to calling Castiel "Cas" or "Uncle Cas", and he found it fascinating how the small Winchesters had so quickly developed a new bond with him. He too was becoming fond of their presence, though he found it difficult to express it beyond simply mimicking the ways which they showed each other affection-namely brief pats on the shoulder and a quick smile (he had learned not to use his teeth, it was not as unsettling that way). While not a conventional family it was working, Sam and Dean would be well and would be able to eventually fulfill their destiny. For now though the focus was on giving them a few decades of normalcy to make them strong enough to face their futures.

School let out for Thanksgiving break, giving the boys a full week off. Sam and Dean both had made plans to visit a few of their friends during the week, and Castiel was pleased that they appeared to be considered well-regarded within their respective peer groups. On the Saturday before Thanksgiving Castiel woke the boys up early with a surprise-positive unplanned experiences were often beneficial for children's psyche. He began by opening the door to Sam's room-he had plastered the walls with drawings and recently begun developing an interest in Lego, and the room showed it.

"Sam, it is your uncle Castiel. Do not be alarmed, I am waking you up for a good reason. However, I will wait to tell you until after I have also gotten up your brother." He had knelt beside the bed and placed a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"What…" Sam rolled over and rubbed his eyes, his hair a mess. "Uncle Cas, it's six in the morning."

"I understand it is early. Please get dressed and meet me downstairs, I have prepared breakfast before I tell you the reason I awoke you."

"Okay." Sam got out of bed and toddled over to his dresser, pulling out clothes to begin to get dressed.

Castiel shut the door to give him privacy before opening Dean's door. Dean's room had also changed. He had put up pictures of racecars on the walls and had a small pile of magazines on his desk about classic cars. He had also recently talked Castiel into buying him a 'Walkman' which was a portable cassette player. This too, sat on his desk. Dean usually slept in the top bunk of his bed in case Sam decided he wanted to spend the night in the bottom bunk. Castiel walked over and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Dean, it is your Uncle Castiel. I am waking you up to tell you something good. However, I will be keeping it until we all eat breakfast. I am sorry it is early."

Dean rolled over to look at Cas, "Can we have breakfast later? I want to sleep in."

"The good news is time sensitive. I allowed you to sleep in as much as I could."

"Fine, I'll be down in a few minutes."

Breakfast was pancakes and sausage (with chocolate chips for Dean and Sam). As the boys ate Castiel told them his announcement. "I invited Bobby for Thanksgiving. I understand he is a close friend and wanted to include him in our celebration. I awoke you early because we need to pick him up at Portland International Airport at eight fifteen. Figuring in traffic and parking we should have an extra half hour to allow you to both get something to give Bobby as a welcoming present from a gift shop." Castiel paused, waiting for the Winchesters to react.

"You invited Bobby for Thanksgiving? That's awesome! Thanks Uncle Cas!" Sam smiled, syrup dripping from his chin as he looked up from his pancakes.

"You know, you're pretty cool sometimes Cas. Thank you." Dean had stopped shoveling sausage and pancakes down for a moment to thank him before blushing and going back to eating. Dean did not usually care to show much emotion, but when he did it tended to be sincere. Castiel could appreciate that, it made it much easier to read Dean than some of the adults he had to interact with.

Bobby's flight from North Dakota had taken just over seven hours. He had booked an economy flight leaving in the evening in the hopes he might sleep during the trip. He was proven wrong. Some idjit kept kneeing the back of his seat and the stewardess had spilled a glass of Pepsi on him when the plane hit turbulence. He was tired, hungry, and really had to piss (because of course the economy bathroom was out of order). When he stepped off that plane he did not want to do anything except get to the nearest bathroom, then sleep.

"Bobby! Bobby! Bobby! Over here!" Sam leapt up and down. Behind him Castiel was holding up a sign which read 'Bobby Singer' in neat handwriting, and Dean was smiling, too cool to wave, but still happy to see him.

Bobby momentarily forgot about his overwhelming need to pee and ran over to greet the three, scooping up Sam and Dean in a bear hug. Dean resisted, but Sam immediately hugged back. Castiel waited until he put them both down to speak, "Welcome to Portland, Bobby. We live a short drive away. I have the car in a parking garage, and I can assist in carrying your luggage if you would like."

Bobby had almost forgotten Castiel's formal tone, "Hey Castiel. Thank you again for inviting me. I'm happy to be here but I really have to take a leak. Can you watch my suitcase for a minute? I need to go."

"Certainly. We will wait here until you return from your urination."

Bobby smirked, thinking what the next week would be like having to deal with Castiel's speech patterns. He was a bit weird, but it might be interesting to see how this all played out.

On the car ride home Bobby sat up front beside Castiel while Sam and Dean talked non-stop about their plans for the week. Bobby was quickly factored into Dean and Sam's plans, as the man was as close to family as they had-beyond Cas-and they wanted to make the most of the week. Dean had gotten Bobby a "Portland" baseball cap, while Sam had gotten him a snow globe-_Really Sammy, a snow globe? Yeah, it's pretty…_

Bobby glanced out the window as they neared the house. The town was pretty small, but it looked like it was growing, based on the newer houses on the outskirts. The street Castiel lived was like something out of any generic suburban scene. Small two-story homes lined the street, with short lawns and well-kept hedges separating them. The house they pulled up to looked exactly like the rest-only it had fake brick on the front and red shutters instead of the vinyl siding that most of the neighboring houses had.

"Welcome to our home, Bobby. Before we go in, I must ask, where would you like to sleep? Our home only has three bedrooms-the builders offered four but I bought the house as a resale and as consequence could not opt for a fourth. Dean and Sam each have separate rooms, and I have my own as well. You could either sleep with Dean-on the bottom bunk of his bed, in Sam's room-Sam and Dean would share Dean's bunk bed-though you may be too large for the bed Sam sleeps in as it was designed for children, with me in the master bedroom-although I feel that sharing a queen mattress with me would cause a degree of discomfort, or in the pull-out sofa in the first floor den." Castiel listed as he parked the car in the driveway.

"Uh, I guess I'll take the den. Don't want to force anyone else to move around."

"Excellent. I will put your things by the pull-out." Castiel opened the trunk and pulled out Bobby's suitcase-he was a guest and it is customary to show courtesy by carrying their things for them.

Bobby didn't know what to expect when he walked into the house, knowing little about Castiel aside from his kinda creepy speech pattern, but he was surprised when he walked in. In the foyer there was a gigantic framed photograph of Castiel with Sam and Dean, and they appeared genuinely happy-well Castiel looked neutral-but the boys looked happy. There were also framed photographs of John as well as people who he guessed were John's parents. Bobby hadn't figured Castiel the type to have sentiment and want photographs, but perhaps he was mistaken.

Dean caught Bobby staring at the picture, "It was Cas' idea. He said that we should have a picture taken to 'commemorate being together for a month' whatever that meant." He made air quotes as he affected Castiel's voice during the last part. "He's not great with the whole 'small words' thing, but I think he was doing it to say he was happy we'd been together a month." He shrugged, "It sucks what happened to Dad, but Cas isn't bad, and as long as I have Sammy everything's okay."

Bobby felt a lump forming in his throat, and decided to change the subject before risking tears in front of an eight year old, "So where's the spring trap of a couch I'm going to be sleeping on this week?"

"It's in the den. Come on." Dean led Bobby through a doorway to the dining room before opening a door leading to the den. It was obviously a former man cave, the previous owner had put up wood paneling on the walls and the floor was carpeted with olive shag. It wasn't a big room, but there was a couch and a few bookshelves as well as a floor-mounted television and some sort of game console.

"When I have some of the guys over from school we usually hang out in here. Cas got us an NES-it's awesome! We're the only ones in the neighborhood with one."

"A what?"

"An NES, Nintendo Entertainment System. Watch this." Dean turned on the television and game console before inserting a cartridge. Bobby watched as the screen lit up and Dean began pressing buttons on the controller to make the man on screen move.

"This is Super Mario-one of Sammy's games. It's super easy, but its two players so it's the only one we can both do together." Dean fiddled with the controller before turning off the console. "Anyway, we have some time to kill before lunch, what do you want to do?"

Bobby thought for a minute, "It might be a bit chilly, but do you and Sam want me to teach you how to throw a football the right way? I remember I saw you two a while ago trying and it never made it more than three feet before it fell on the ground."

"I was seven; that was last year!" Dean was indignant over being told he was bad at a sport. "I'm warning you, I'm a lot better now."

"Oh really, well, then maybe I'll only have to teach Sammy my secret to a perfect spiral."

"Well, maybe I could learn that, but I already know the rest."

The days leading up to Thanksgiving were pleasant. Something the Winchesters had begun to adjust to after a childhood marked mostly by unpleasant events. Sam insisted on introducing Bobby to every one of his friends that came over, and though Dean pretended to be irritated, he did the same when his friends came to visit. Dean showed Bobby the school-including the spot by the swing set where he lost his front tooth, _it finally came out when I had Kyle swing into my face_-and Sam showed him the park where during the summer the other kids said they set off sprinklers so you could run around and cool off. Bobby was amazed at how normal the boys had become. Dean no longer spoke about wanting to go on hunts and kill monsters, and Sam looked like he'd slept more than three hours in the past week.

The night before Thanksgiving he overheard part of a conversation from upstairs. He didn't normally eavesdrop, but he'd had to get a glass of water and ended up in the foyer as he heard Castiel tucking in Dean.

" Cas, I know it's not Thanksgiving yet or anything, but I wanna tell you something." Dean sounded a bit reluctant.

"Yes, what is it Dean?"

"I miss Dad a lot. But I kind of like being here, with you. I mean, with Dad we always had to go from place to place and we never really got to know anyone. I have friends now, and the lady at school's actually helping me with my writing, and you're pretty cool too, even if you are a bit weird… I don't want to say I'm thankful Dad died, because I really miss him, but I am thankful to be with you." Dean fidgeted, looking down at his hands, feeling guilty over being happy despite his father's death.

"Dean, I am thankful to be with you too. I know you do not often confide in me, but I am very glad you did. What happened with your father was unfortunate, but we can at least take comfort in the fact that we have each other. I love you Dean." Castiel was surprised at the fact that he had said the last sentence, suddenly feeling a warm sensation in his chest and a small lump in his throat. He genuinely loved Dean. He loved both the Winchesters and would do anything to protect them.

"Thanks Cas, I guess I love you too."

Bobby barely managed to keep himself composed long enough to make it to the den before he started weeping.

Castiel was up early on Thanksgiving to prepare the food. He had purchased a turkey as well as a number of sides and had made a few pies in the days prior as dessert following the meal (which he had hid to keep Dean from eating). Bobby offered to assist with food preparation and cooking, and Castiel agreed. If he wanted to assist, he should be able to. The kitchen was located next to the living room, so they were able to see the football game on television as the food was readied. Sam and Dean both had decided to watch the game, with both boys rooting for Kansas City (not knowing it was in fact in Missouri).

"I believe the food is all prepared. If you would like to join us at the table we can begin eating." Castiel said, slightly louder than normal in an attempt to speak over the television.

"Can we finish watching this game?" Sam turned around to make his puppy-dog eyes at Cas-who despite being an angel was not fully immune to their charm.

"You can continue watching the game after the meal. They are not yet finished, they are only just nearing the third quarter's end. You can catch the ending most likely if we eat now."

"Fine." Sam pouted as Dean clicked off the television.

Sam and Dean sat at their normal places, across from each other, and Castiel sat down at one end of the table. Bobby took the remaining empty chair, opposite Castiel. Castiel lifted his arms and the boys each took a hand.

"Bless us oh Lord these thy gifts which we are about to receive, from thy bounty through Christ our Lord, Amen." Dean mumbled along as Sam and Cas recited the prayer. He didn't mind, but he was still on the fence about the whole 'god' thing. What kind of a lousy guy would make him and Sammy orphans? That, plus the whole fluffy clouds and angels thing seemed a bit stupid. Though, church wasn't bad, it was just boring-but it was only once a week so he could manage.

"I believe it is customary to state what we are thankful for before we eat. This holiday is meant to be a celebration of the good things we can recognize having happened during the last year. I recognize that there have been things which we are not glad about-mainly the death of John-but there have also been positives. I am thankful for my new family and friendship with Bobby." Castiel smiled carefully at Bobby, and appeared to have succeeded in not appearing threatening or odd.

"I'm thankful for my new friends Carol and Dave and Norm, and that Dean and I get to be with Uncle Cas." Sam smiled, happily kicking his legs under the table.

"I'm thankful that Sam and I are still together-even with everything that happened. I'm also thankful that Cas is pretty cool, even if you do need to stop using such big words all the time." Dean wryly smiled at Cas, not wanting to appear uncool by being too emotional.

"I'm thankful that you welcomed me into your home, despite knowing almost nothing about me. I mean, hell, all you knew was that I was a friend of your brother and his boys and you let me in. I want to tell you, this is the first real Thanksgiving I have had in years. Castiel I don't know how I can say this, but you really are a true friend. Thank you."

Bobby's speech had that same feeling happen again that had happened when Dean had mentioned he loved him, Castiel was warm and it felt good. This time his face also felt warm, it was strange.

"Looks like you made him blush! Stop embarrassing Cas, Bobby!" Dean teased, good naturedly.

"It is alright. I am glad to be well liked. You too are a true friend, Bobby. Thank you, you are the first friend I have made in a long time-well, beside the boys."

"Alright, enough of the Hallmark moment stuff, let's eat some turkey." Bobby joked, though still quite glad himself.

Bobby was no slouch in the kitchen, and with Castiel's usual high standard of cooking the meal had turned out wonderful. The turkey was moist and juicy. The potatoes were mashed perfectly and the gravy was thick and rich. The cornbread was perfect and the sweet potatoes were delicious. The corn and green beans were soaked in butter, and Dean actually had seconds on vegetables for once in his life. The best part though was dessert. Castiel had made six different pies: cherry, blueberry, pumpkin, apple, strawberry-rhubarb, and chocolate mousse. Dean looked so happy he pinched himself to make sure it wasn't a dream.

"You made all of these?"

"Yes. I understand you love pie-as you always eat at least two slices normally. I thought that since this holiday was designed as a feast you would be able to enjoy a few of your favorites, hopefully with enough left for the rest of us to also enjoy a serving."

"I think you just made a joke. The world must be ending, first you blush and then you use humor?" Dean teased the normally stoic Castiel.

"The world is not ending, I have been working on humor and decided to attempt to implement it now."

"Well, in any case, pass the pumpkin here first. I want a slice before Dean eats it all." Bobby grabbed a knife and started cutting a piece for himself.

Sam had never experienced a Thanksgiving before like this one. Usually it was just fried chicken and Dad sleeping while he and Dean watched a football game on TV on low. He liked this better, even if he did wish Dad could be here with them.


	8. Growth

**Chapter 8: Growth**

Bobby's visit ended with a farewell party and a trio of well-wishers waving him goodbye at the gate. It wasn't long though, as he returned again for Christmas and decided to make an announcement.

"I'm selling my place and moving out here to be closer to all of y'all."

"Bobby, you have a place where you are now. You must have established yourself there, your livelihood is there. I cannot ask for you to do this simply for us." Castiel understood that Bobby wanted to be close to them, but he could not simply relocate his life. At his age it would be exceedingly unwise.

"You didn't ask. I decided on my own. It's time I give up hunting. I've seen what it does to guys. Most of 'em don't live to fifty, those that do end up paranoid and shut everyone out. While you may not be blood, you're family. You've all had enough people die in your lives. I'm not going to be one of them."

"Bobby, are you gonna live here now?" Sam held one of the ornaments he had unboxed as they were decorating the Christmas tree.

"Not here-here-but hopefully close." He turned to Castiel, "You sell real estate, right?"

Castiel was surprised Bobby remembered, he had only mentioned it twice to him. Perhaps close friends remembered small details about each others' lives. "Yes, I do."

"Well, while I'm here for Christmas I want to see some houses that I might be able to move into. Not today, obviously, but y'know, when you get the chance."

"Alright. I know I have a few different properties for sale. I suppose we can discuss the specifics later."

Christmas morning was something Sam had never experienced before. Running down the stairs after Dean to check under the tree-an _actual_ tree-to find a pile of neatly wrapped gifts was something he'd only seen in movies during December on the dingy motel TVs they always used to stay at.

"It's beautiful." Sam stood staring at the tree, the light from the golden bulbs reflecting off the red, white, and gold paper the presents were wrapped in. That's right, presents-with an 's'. Each box was neatly wrapped with a bow and a nametag with Cas' handwriting-Sam knew his name started with an 'S' so he could see which boxes were his.

Dean too stood still. It was his first Christmas since his mother's passing he remembered getting actual gifts. Normally his father got them something small and wrapped it in newspaper. It wasn't terrible, given the circumstances, but this was almost surreal for him, "It is beautiful, and it's ours Sammy." Dean grinned gleefully and tore toward the tree grabbing the first present with his name on it and making a large rip in the paper.

"Hold on a sec! Wait for us to get the camera ready, you two!" Bobby had been watching the two from the dining room where he was setting up the camcorder. Castiel had made a pot of coffee for the two of them, as they had to get up at the crack of dawn to get up before the boys to get the presents put out.

"Aw, come on! If you miss me opening one box it doesn't matter. Let me go Tasmanian devil on this thing! I'm itching to unwrap a dirt bike."

Castiel came out from the kitchen holding a cup of coffee-the black liquid having become his favorite beverage after it became evident that raising children often led to exhaustion, even for immortals. "Well, there is not a dirt bike under the tree, but I am confident you will like the other gifts. Do wait for us to have the camera ready, we want to record this moment."

"Alright, we're live. Go nuts." Bobby placed the massive camcorder on a tripod and sat down in the recliner as Castiel sat on the couch to watch Sam and Dean open gifts. Dean excitedly tore into the first present, and happily held up the box: it was a home laser tag set. Sam stared at his box for a minute before carefully peeling the tape off.

"Come on, open up yours so I can go again."

"But I don't want to rip the paper, it's pretty."

"Sammy, you're supposed to rip the paper. I'm sure Cas still has an extra roll if you really want to look at it more later."

"I do have more paper that I was not able to use when wrapping your gifts. Your brother is correct, normally people do not save the gift wrapping." Castiel shrugged-a gesture he had learned could be added at most circumstances without appearing odd.

"Okay…" Sam gingerly began to tear the paper before Dean rolled his eyes and helped him tear a chunk off. Sam furrowed his brow and held onto the present, moving it from Dean's reach and tore the paper off, this time fast enough that Dean was satisfied.

"Cool!" Sam opened the box and pulled out the small, fluffy toy. It was a Teddy Ruxpin. Dean immediately had a mischievous grin.

"Hey Cas, that thing plays any tape you put it in and sings along, right?"

"That was what the commercial indicated."

"I am so having him sing along to some of my tapes."

By the end of the unwrapping spree Sam and Dean were both surrounded with a pile of toys, clothing, and candy. "Well, I guess it's our turn to give gifts now." Dean turned to Sammy, who nodded. The two boys quickly ran upstairs. They returned a few moments later, Dean holding a box and something lumpy, both wrapped in more tape than snowflake print paper; Sam came down with a shoebox and a grocery bag.

"I can't use scissors to cut the paper. The finger holes are too far apart." He said as he held up the box for Cas.

Castiel was surprised. He had not thought of the possibility of the Winchesters getting him a gift. He felt himself being warm again, something he knew meant he was experiencing a feeling of love for the boys. He smiled-the motion having gradually become easier-and accepted the box from Sam. He also took the lumpy package from Dean and began to open the presents. Dean's was what appeared to be an attempt at a coffee mug while Sam had gotten him a pair of socks with Christmas trees on them. He knew he should thank them, but he did not know what words to use.

"These gifts are both excellent, not simply because of their material worth, but because of the intention behind them. Thank you both for caring enough about me to show me this kindness."

"Well, we are kind of your kids, it makes sense to get you something. Besides, we both do, y'know…" Dean was still somewhat guarded with expressing his emotions, but the intent was clear. Castiel knew he was being told he was loved.

"Yeah, we love you Uncle Cas." Sam hugged Castiel. Castiel smiled and decided to try ruffling his hair as he'd seen Dean do. It appeared to work, as Sam squirmed momentarily, but laughed as a result of the gesture.

"Don't think we forgot you." Dean held up the second present, and Sam followed, breaking free from Castiel and grabbing the paper bag to give to Bobby. Bobby steadied himself, not wanting to seem too emotional in the moment, but it had been years since he'd had any sort of Christmas-and he nearly lost it when he opened the gifts. Dean had gotten him a baseball hat with "Welcome to North Plains" on it-a surprisingly prescient gift, while Sam had gotten him a framed photograph of the four of them together at Thanksgiving.

"That one isn't just from me. Cas helped me pick the picture and get it framed." Sam smiled at Cas, who nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, boys. I'm really touched."

"Touched by what?" Sam tilted his head slightly, not understanding.

"He means he's happy, Sammy." Dean rolled his eyes.

"Then he should've said that. No one touched him."

Castiel showed Bobby a few different properties in town before he decided on a small blue cape on the outskirts, only a few minutes from Sam and Dean. It was smaller than his old house-with considerably less property than the junkyard had held-but it was much newer, and had an attached lot with a property that had once been a gas station.

"I assume that you want to continue working in some capacity, and if you have decided to give up hunting I suppose that you would wish to spend more time with your automotive work."

Bobby had agreed with Castiel's logic and after seeing the old gas station immediately began thinking of how he could convert the property into a workspace. The gas station had a three bay garage off to the side and Bobby knew he could use the space well.

Castiel drew up the paperwork and Bobby officially bought the house shortly after New Years. He flew back home and after packing up his things began the trek to North Plains. It took two days for him to arrive-having had to hire a moving service in addition to the U-Haul van he drove-and he was greeted with three friendly faces upon pulling up front.

"We wanted to welcome you officially to North Plains." Dean smiled, holding up a cake covered in chocolate frosting-as he had 'accidentally' ate part of the welcome pie at home the night before, not that Castiel hadn't expected some antics.

"May we help you unload anything?" Castiel put Sam down, who he had been holding up to that point so that the young boy could see over the half-wall at the edge of the porch they stood on.

"Well, the movers will get the big stuff. If you guys want to help me unload the U-Haul we can get some of these boxes in." Bobby gestured toward the truck before opening the back and revealing it was stuffed to the brim with cardboard boxes. "Full disclosure, I may have hoarded a bit of stuff from my past profession and I don't intend to let it go…"


	9. Happy Birthday, Dean

**Chapter 9: Happy Birthday, Dean**

"…to Dean, Happy Birthday to you!" Sam, Bobby, and Castiel sang as Dean blew out the candles on his birthday pie. Castiel normally did not modulate his voice this extensively, though he had been working on it somewhat in the last few weeks, and it showed. However, he did not mind as he was in the company of close friends and it was unlikely they minded his poor attempt at singing. That and the other children who were attending Dean's party sounded nearly as bad as he did.

Dean had insisted on having a pie for his birthday, despite Castiel suggesting cake-the traditional confection associated with the event. Dean had eventually conceded that the other guests could have cake, but that he wanted a birthday pie. Castiel had agreed, and insisted that Dean invite the entire class from school, as well as a few of the other children from the neighborhood for the party (Dean had not thought to invite others-he had thought it would only be family). It was a full house.

Dean didn't mind having all the guests. He hadn't had many friends before, with always traveling and staying places for a month or two at most there was little time to connect, and when they left they never went back. While not all the kids at his party were close friends, he at least knew all of them and none of them were jerks. Plus when you have fifteen guests, that means fifteen presents! Dean never thought much about birthday presents before. Normally the only recognition of his birthday was his father giving him a few bucks and letting him choose where the family ate out for lunch. That is, if he remembered his birthday. There'd been a few years where Dean's birthday ended up a bit later than he thought it was, and he knew for certain he wasn't born in February-despite his father's claims one year he had forgotten a particularly long time.

The party finished around five, with the parents picking up kids finishing up a bit before 5:30-Sam (a different Sam, this one was Sam Kennedy-the blonde boy who sat to Dean's left at school) had to wait for his older sister to pick him up because his mom was on call at the hospital and couldn't make it on time. After Sam's sister Veronica picked him up left Dean looked around at the house. There were balloons and streamers hanging from the ceiling and a pile of new toys sitting on the living room coffee table. He'd gotten a few action figures, a transformer, and even a new video game (he should remember to invite Derek every year). Dean thought he'd give a few toys to Sammy; he was a bigger fan of TMNT anyway. Cas and Bobby were in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes, he could hear them chatting about some TV show he didn't watch. Cas had recently started watching more shows on TV with him and Sammy, and really seemed to be getting into "Star Trek". Sammy really liked the show, but he liked anything with spaceships in it.

As Dean walked to the kitchen he looked out the sliding doors to the back yard. The entire yard was steeped in a thick blanket of fresh white snow. It had been too snowy to go outside during the party-there was over a foot on the ground-and Cas had decided to keep the party inside so that the other parents wouldn't get mad at their kids going home with wet clothes. But now that the party was over…

"Cas, can Sammy and I go outside? I want to get in a few quality snowballs before it's too dark."

Castiel glanced out the window over the sink, "The sun will be setting shortly. I will put on the back patio light, so you can have a good time with Sam." He smiled at Dean, it was becoming almost natural at this point.

"Awesome. Thanks Cas!" Dean ran to tell Sam to put on his jacket. About thirty seconds later the two boys ran out the back door and started pelting each other with snowballs.

Castiel watched the boys through the window as he continued to wash dishes. He felt a slight tightness in his abdomen, he recognized it as worry-a newer feeling, but just as potent as the others. "Do you think he liked the party? I have difficulty telling how Dean feels at times, but he seemed happy."

Bobby stared at Castiel a minute before sighing and rolling his eyes, "Cas, the boy just had the best birthday of his life as far as he can remember. John never did anything half this nice, even when Mary was alive. I know the kid's a stubborn idjit at times, but he sees all you do and I know he loves you. He's still healing from everything, and he's always been a bit stubborn to say what he's feeling, but I know he had a good time."

"Thank you Bobby, that does help considerably." Castiel felt a bit of the tightness go away.

"What can I say, in addition to being a mechanic I'm a damn good therapist."

Castiel still felt the tightness; he was concerned if it was something he would feel often. He genuinely wanted the boys to do well and was concerned if he was doing a good job, if he was the right angel for the responsibility.

"You hit me with a slush-ball!" Sam rubbed the back of his neck where a large bright red mark had formed.

"Did not! You're just mad that you lost." Dean crossed his arms in a huff, indignant at being accused of cheating by using a slush-ball.

"I didn't lose, you cheated!"

"I didn't cheat; you're just a sore loser who can't take a snowball like a man."

"I'm four!"

"Boys! That is enough. Dean, apologize to Sam for hitting him with a snowball. Sam, he did not intend to injure you, it was done as part of the game." Castiel looked at the two who appeared to have shrunk into the large winter coats they wore at his remark. Perhaps he had been a bit too loud-he needed to work on volume control now that he had begun to experiment with more varied speaking.

"Sorry." Dean mumbled, looking at Sam, then down at his boots.

"It's okay. You didn't mean it." Sam looked down at his mittens.

Castiel could sense that he had diffused their tension, but also somewhat frightened the two with his outburst, "Alright. How about I make some hot chocolate? Perhaps that could help everyone feel a bit better." Castiel looked over at Bobby, who had been silent up until that point-pulling down streamers from the living room. Bobby nodded in agreement.

"You boys get changed out of those wet clothes and Cas and I will make some hot cocoa. Now move it before I change his mind and you end up with coffee!"

Dean scrunched up his face at the mention of coffee, he thought it smelled awful. He had no idea how Cas or Bobby drank it. "Come on, even you couldn't do that to us. Especially on my birthday!"

"Watch me."Bobby rolled his eyes as the two brothers went upstairs to change. He had just finished taking down the last of the streamers in the living room and stuffing the last bit of the trash into a plastic bag. He turned to Cas, "Never heard you yell before. What's going on?"

Castiel looked up from the cocoa powder he was reading, "I suppose I allowed some of my earlier anxiety to not fully dissipate. As consequence, I may have been a bit louder than intended due to held stress."

"Cas, I told you not to worry so much. You're doing the best you can, and honestly it's a lot better than what these kids used to have. I mean no disrespect to John, but they actually have their own lives now. They aren't just tag-a-longs to whatever he's doing. Just calm down and realize there is no such thing as a perfect parent-or guardian, I guess in your case."

"I just wonder if I was the right person, you know I am not exactly a 'people person' or someone who has great emotional range… I just do not want them to end up…" He trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"Cas, I told you, you're doing a good job. Even if you are a bit weird at times, you're a good guy. You're practically these kids' guardian angel-I mean, you swoop out of nowhere and raise two boys you've never even met before as your own… If you need help I'm always here, but I don't think you need much. Just trust yourself. So far you've done a good job. I mean, nothing's caught on fire and everyone still has all their fingers." Bobby smiled, placing a hand on Cas' shoulder.

Castiel was immediately overwhelmed with another rush of warmth, but this one was more nuanced. It was not love-it was hard to place, he had heard of comfort and comradery, but those were also not quite right. Bobby's touch brought genuine relief, and Castiel felt the tightness leave him.

"You are a good therapist, but I would argue an even better friend." Castiel clasped his hand on Bobby's shoulder, "Thank you Bobby."

"You're welcome, now before we start turning into some weird romantic comedy, I suggest turning off the burner, that milk's about to boil over the side of your pan."


	10. Valentine's Day

**Chapter 10: Valentines' Day**

"Remind me again why I'm stuck shopping for girly Valentine's Day cards?" Dean glanced at a rack of valentines, Care Bears and Strawberry Shortcake filling nearly the entire wall of the grocery store's small Valentine's Day display. The display also boasted a few different chocolate boxes (most shaped like hearts), as well as bags of candy hearts and cinnamon gummy hearts. All these hearts made Dean feel as sick as if he'd eaten all the candy in front of him. It was way too mushy for him.

"It is customary to exchange cards as a sign of love and goodwill. That, and your school sent home a letter saying it was mandatory for students to buy cards for each of their classmates, after an incident last year where some child had intentionally been given none." Castiel glanced at a pack of My Little Pony cards and wondered how horses could possibly be fascinating enough that children would watch a cartoon about them.

"Well, I still think it's crappy to force us to buy cards for everyone."

"Dean, consider this: if you are buying everyone a card with a treat, your classmates are likely doing the same. You are most likely going to end up with a few pieces of chocolate and candy by the end of the day." Castiel paused, seeing that Dean had softened slightly, and continued, "Sometimes even in annoyance there can be a bright side, even with mandatory gift giving."

"Well, I wouldn't mind free candy…" Dean picked up a pack of Transformers cards that came with heart shaped lollipops.

Sam, meanwhile, had been digging through the bins looking for a pack of Star Trek cards-his new favorite television show-and had created a small pile behind him as he put half of himself into a large cardboard box full of cards. "Finally! I found one!" he triumphantly held up a pack of cards with a large picture of Captain Kirk on the front.

"I thought you liked Captain Picard better?" Dean said, glancing at the pack before going back to look at the Transformers pack he held.

"I do, but I searched all the bins I can reach and this is the only Star Trek pack. I can settle for Kirk."

Valentine's Day was a Sunday, so the school had decided to celebrate the holiday the Friday before and have a small dance for the higher grades in the gym on Saturday evening. Cas had made heart shaped pancakes for breakfast to commemorate the occasion, and made sure Sam and Dean both had the cards for the other students in their class, as well as the gifts he had picked for their teachers.

"Alright class, I suppose we can begin today by celebrating Valentine's Day. Each of you has already made your card bag, so you can place your cards in the bags on everyone's desk." Mr. Henkel had the class make a Valentine's Day card bag the day before after lunch. They were all the same white paper lunch-sack, but each child had decorated theirs differently. Most of the girls had opted to use glitter, and Dean couldn't stand to even look at some of the bags for too long before he started to get a headache from the light reflecting off all the tiny flecks. He'd made his pretty simple.

Dean was never one much for sentimentality, so he'd cut out a single red heart from construction paper and pasted it on the front of his bag, then written his name in black ink in the center of it. He'd finished about as quickly as the other boys-with only Sam Kennedy investing anything more than a few seconds in decorating (he had opted to draw a heart, so it took him longer to color it in). The bag that stood out, however, was Ava's. Ava was the girl with red hair who had greeted Dean on the first time he'd come to the school. She was beautiful, not that he'd ever admit that he thought so. Her bag was almost as pretty as she was, with an intricate pattern like a doily drawn across the bag full of small hearts. In the center was a hand drawn cupid-not one of the stickers the other girls had used. The whole bag was amazing, and Dean secretly wished he could draw like her, as even with the school's help he still struggled a great deal with fine motor control.

He decided to do the last row at the end of his route, and began placing valentines in the students' bags who sat up front. It was a quick process, the room only having fifteen desks and twelve students. He dropped off cards and chatted briefly with a few classmates, planning to stop at Max's house on Saturday to look at his new puppy-they'd gotten a German shepherd from his uncle, and asking Kyle if he'd seen Return of the Living Dead 2 (Dean had snuck out of the movie he was supposed to be watching with Sam and Bobby and had managed to see about half the film before Bobby realized he'd 'been in the bathroom' for almost an hour). Ava sat in the back row along with two other girls: Judy and Cindy. Judy and Cindy both had crushes on Dean that were abundantly obvious. He didn't mind that they liked him, but he didn't exactly like them back. Judy always talked about the girliest crap imaginable, if it wasn't ponies or glitter it was Cabbage Patch Kids or something equally boring. Cindy was just as bad, only she also always chewed gum and played with it when Dean looked at her. It was gross.

They sat side by side, with Ava in the corner by the window. Dean had actually put some effort into her valentine. Sure, it was still one of the ones from the pack, but he'd written more than just his name on it. The school was having a Valentine's Day dance Saturday night and Dean had decided to write a note on his card asking her to be his date-after bribing the other guys in the class not to do so by letting them play with his NES (well, technically his and Sammy's NES, according to Cas). He smiled as he dropped in his card and walked back to his seat; hopeful she would read it and respond quickly-not that he cared about all that emotional junk, it would just be nice to go instead of staying home.

"She said yes!" Dean hung up the phone in the kitchen and quickly tried to hide his smile, knowing his outburst had already attracted enough attention.

"Who said yes?" Castiel looked up from the pasta he was stirring-it needed more basil and he was out. He wished he could summon things at will instead of having to constantly go grocery shopping, but it was part of the act as a human. Even if it was extremely-what was the word Dean had used-lame to wait in line for ten minutes at the only register they had open.

"Ava, a girl in my class agreed to go to the dance with me tomorrow. Not that it matters, if she said no I just would've done something else anyway."

Castiel raised an eyebrow in disbelief, something he had picked up from Bobby. "Are you sure you do not care, it appears as if you were quite happy that she said yes before you attempted to stop yourself."

"No…" Dean stated before his conscience caught him knowing that he should be honest with Cas, "Fine, yeah I'm happy."

"Good. It is nice to know you can embrace the idea of romantic love." Castiel turned back to the pantry, pulling out an Italian seasoning blend-well, it had some basil in it-it would have to suffice.

"I'm not in love, just, I kind of like her." Dean began to grow red.

Castiel recognized this as blushing and realized Dean was embarrassed. He opted to change the subject, "I apologize for embarrassing you. I did not intend to. Can you tell Sam it is time for dinner? I believe he is in the den."

"Really, Dean has a crush?" Bobby sounded surprised over the phone, or at least that was what Castiel guessed it was. Reading emotions without visual cues was much more difficult, even if he was getting marginally better with practice.

"It appears that he does indeed like this girl."

"Well, it appears he's growing up a bit faster than we thought. I suppose I shouldn't be too shocked. Kid's always had a 'James Dean' Casanova kind of quality. You might need to give him a talk soon-if you catch my meaning."

"I do not understand." Castiel was puzzled by Bobby's vague phrasing.

"Y'know, 'the talk'. He's not quite there yet, but if memory serves John told me he was an early bloomer, and so was Mary. It makes sense to just get it out of the way. Even if it is awkward as hell coming from his uncle."

"Is this regarding puberty? The talk, that is?"

"Wait, did you never get it? Well, that might explain a few things…" Bobby chuckled. "Yeah, it's about puberty and all the other stuff that happens along with that."

Castiel's eyes widened considerably as he imagined having to discuss _that_ with Dean. Dean was finally warming up to him and Castiel was certain discussing such sensitive topics would undoubtedly be awkward for both of them, not to mention potentially detrimental to their relationship. "I am entirely uncomfortable discussing such matters with Dean."

"Well, I sure as hell ain't going to do it."

"…and that is how your body's gonna change. Now do ya have any questions, aside from the snarky comeback about needing to bleach your brain from all of this?" Bobby concluded, shooting a somewhat irritated glance at Castiel. Castiel had-not exactly begged, but asked repeatedly- if Bobby could help, and after a few minutes he had begrudgingly agreed. _I suppose if the kid had to be traumatized we might as well do it as a team…_

Dean was a shade paler than normal, and appeared to wish to be literally anywhere else but at the dining room table across from the two grown men who had just explained to him the horrifying and honestly a bit weird things he was going to have happen to him courtesy of 'becoming a man'. "Can we pretend this never happened? I'll still remember all this, I don't think it's possible for me to forget it, and we just act like we never had this talk?"

"Yes." Bobby and Castiel agreed in unison.

Dean had decided to dress up a bit nicer than he normally did, _not for any specific reason, it was just because_. He'd worn a pair of khakis Cas normally had him wear to church as well as a red button-down shirt. No tie though, even though Cas had tried to get him to wear one. Ava also dressed up a bit, _not that she didn't normally look nice_. When Dean met her at the gym entrance he felt a slight catch in his throat as she approached. _It was just a cough, none of that touchy-feely chick flick crap._ But she did look nice, so he told her. "You look nice. I like your dress." Dean thought she looked nice in pink, and the scrunchie in her hair had small hearts on it, _she always knows how to make sure everything looks good together_.

"You look good too, if you can tolerate me saying that." She smirked, "Look, I know you're Mr. tough-guy, but take a compliment. Besides, Judy said she overheard you promising the other guys they could play with your video games if they didn't ask me."

_Crap, how the heck had Judy heard that?_ "Well… I…"

"It was sweet. Though I wouldn't have said yes to anyone else. You're different Dean, I like different." She smiled as she grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor as "Heaven" played through the tinny speakers over the stage. _It was going to be a good night._


	11. Easter

**Chapter 11: Easter**

Sam fussed with the tight collar on his button up shirt, not the least aided by the equally tight necktie that Cas had insisted he wear. Apparently this Sunday was more important than the other Sundays in the year (except maybe Christmas), because normally Sam didn't have to wear a tie to church. He hated wearing ties; they made his neck feel too small for his head. He waited on the couch in the living room as he heard Cas finish up forcing Dean into his outfit-something Dean had tried numerous times to avoid.

Cas had won though, "Dean, I know it is not attractive in your mind but it would mean a lot to me if you wore it. Please?" Castiel was proud of himself for using guilt in his favor-instead of just feeling it when he knew he had misread a situation and failed to act in the boys' best interests. Dean huffed, conceding to wear the outfit.

Sam heard Dean's heavy footsteps as the nine-year old plodded down the stairs. When Sam glanced over at Dean he almost let out a laugh-but didn't, knowing what his brother would do if he did (and he had no desire for a noogie). Dean looked even more uncomfortable than he did. Not only had Cas gone through nearly a quarter of a bottle of hair gel attempting to get Dean's hair to stop pointing straight upward, but the comb-over he'd forced Dean's hair into looked like something that belonged on a middle-aged science teacher. Dean's outfit was just as bad as Sam's. Cas had gotten matching outfits at the mall-apparently they'd had a sale. Both boys were wearing green pants, a beige button down, and argyle sweater vests with a green tie. Dean thought he looked like a damn leprechaun.

"One word and I swear I will end you." Dean glowered, but didn't mean it. Sam knew Dean would never actually hurt him, the tough guy thing was mostly an act, and Dean had never done anything worse than give a noogie to Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes as Cas walked in. He was also dressed up for the occasion, wearing his usual suit with the addition of a vest and pocket square.

"So, why do we have to dress up like this anyway? We go to church every week and I never have to look like this normally." Dean fussed with his shirt, the tag scratching the back of his neck.

"Because today is Easter." Cas was beaming, for some reason.

"So? We already ate our candy." Dean glanced again over at the empty basket. Cas had gone all out, he even figured out what type of chocolate was Dean's favorite-milk chocolate with a marshmallow center.

Castiel looked surprised for a moment. "Dean, we have been discussing this for weeks. Today is the day of Christ's resurrection, without which humans could not ever get into heaven." Castiel made a mental note to not use 'humans' next time, as Dean looked a bit curious at his word choice.

"Oh yeah." Dean hadn't had much experience with the whole 'churchgoer' thing. Before Cas he and Sammy never went, Dad wasn't exactly a huge fan of the big guy-if there was one-after what had happened to Mom. He felt a bit guilty about not really listening, it mattered to Cas, but Dean wasn't sure if he could believe in some guy in white with magic powers. Especially if those powers couldn't save his parents.

The church service was a lot longer than normal. So long that Sammy had to pee twice. Dean volunteered to take him so he didn't have to sit through the service the whole time. Cas agreed, he always seemed to glow when he was at church and loved listening to whatever Pastor Gerald said. The second time the two decided to take the long way to the bathroom, taking a break by the water fountain.

"How much longer do we have? I'm bored and I don't think I can drink enough to have to pee again." Sam said between gulps at the fountain.

"Heck if I know. There isn't a clock anywhere around here. According to the bulletin we're almost at the end, only another hymn and then closing." He glanced at the thick paper folded over on itself, leafing through the end announcements to see if anything interesting was coming up.

Sammy finished up drinking at the fountain and stepped off the stepstool. He looked like he was thinking hard about something-a face Dean knew all too well-before he unscrunched his nose and spoke, "Dean, is God real?"

Dean's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as he slowly turned to face Sammy. "Uh… I…" he stuttered, unsure of what to say.

Sammy sat down on the stepstool, "Because Cas says that God is real and that he loves us and he has angels keeping us safe, but if that's true then why did Mom and Dad die? Did we do something wrong? Did I do something wrong? I mean, they told us in Sunday School that God punishes sins, did we… Did we sin bad enough for Mom and Dad to die?" The young boy looked like he was on the verge of tears; he held his head between his hands as he sat on the stool.

"Sammy, come on…" Dean placed a hand on Sammy's shoulder, but the young boy didn't look up.

"I love uncle Cas, but I miss Dad. Why did God let him die?"

Dean stood silent, sitting down next to his brother, his small sneakers squeaking against the linoleum in the church corridor. They were silent as they heard the organ finish and Pastor Gerald bless the congregation. Dean stared forward as Sam looked down at his feet.

A shuffle of feet left the sanctuary, with one pair headed in their direction, "There you are! Please do not disappear again. The service finished and I was concerned where you were." Castiel rounded the corner to the boys before slowing down, noticing how both Sam and Dean looked despondent on the floor. He frowned, confused. He felt a slight twinge in his chest, as if he was suddenly feeling what the two felt. It was strange. He was not sure he liked it.

Castiel sat down between the two, facing them and gently spoke, "What is wrong?"

Sam looked up, eyes glistening, "Uncle Cas, when I sinned did that make Dad die?"

Castiel felt as if someone had suddenly yanked on that twinge and taken a good chunk of his chest with it. He had never before felt such strong emotion. "No, Sam." He gently placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, bringing him in for a hug-physical contact mattered much to the young boy, it was the best way to comfort him. "John did not die for your sins. John's death was something none of us saw coming. Your sins have not caused harm to anyone, and I do not intend them to ever do so." Castiel thought a moment, _even if that does mean I resist the plan I was told to enforce._

"Well it still fucking sucks." Dean glanced at the far wall, not caring if he cursed. He'd been good the last few months, but honestly it felt good to let loose an f-bomb every once in a while. Especially when he meant it.

Castiel bristled slightly at the curse, but he understood the sentiment. "Dean, no one knows God's plan. Not even most of the angels, as much as they may want to." Castiel wished he could commune with his father, but it had been a long time since he had been able to. "Everything happens for a reason. I know your father's death was hard on you-it was not easy for me either-but out of it something good has happened." Castiel watched as Dean turned toward him slowly, trying to fight back tears, "Without that dark day I would have never met you. We would never be a family, have this life together. I love you both like my own sons and I… I just want to make sure that you both can live good lives." Castiel did not care if it was not fully in line with the plan he had been told. Both Dean AND Sam deserved good lives. He would make it his mission that the two would never need to be this sad or confused again, that they would never have to fight.

No one was going to hurt these boys any more than they already had been.

Dean quickly hugged Cas and Sammy before letting go and standing up, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. "Alright, enough tears. Let's go eat our weight in ham at Bobby's."

"It appears as though our _faithful warrior_ has decided to rebel against the plan. I am disappointed, though I cannot say I am surprised. Our brother has always been weak, prone to human sentimentality."

"Perhaps we can correct his path, intervene and speak with him to stop his actions. He is of little use here, and if we can have him doing this it prevents the waste of another angel-as well as the necessary altering of the Winchester's memories. Besides, you know as well as I do that he is easy to control."

"Very well, we will watch for now and intervene when possible. Our younger brother needs guidance, and possibly discipline for his actions."


	12. Sam's Birthday

**Chapter 12: Sam's Birthday**

It was a Monday. Dean hated Mondays normally, but today wasn't just any Monday. It was Sammy's birthday.

Dean had been saving up his allowance for weeks to get him something-_an allowance_, _God_, sometimes he couldn't believe how different this whole 'normal kid' thing was from before. Sammy loved Star Trek, so Dean figured he'd get him a character from the show. Only that jerk at the toy store said the toys weren't available yet-so he had to go with his backup. Sammy watched most of the same cartoons as him, except for G.I. Joe-kid thought it was too scary (yet he'd faced the supernatural already, go figure?)-so Dean decided to go with a standby and grab him something from Transformers. Sammy already had Optimus Prime, and Cas said he had gotten him Megatron, so Dean had opted for Bumblebee. He had the woman at the gift wrap counter use blue paper and a green ribbon (Sammy's favorite colors), and had hidden the gift in his closet the past week waiting to give it to his little brother. He hoped Sammy liked it.

Cas was already downstairs working on breakfast (he could hear the talk radio discussing some new movie he didn't care about), it smelled like eggs and bacon. Sammy was still asleep (Cas had taken the day off and was going in with him later to have a small party at school), but he figured they'd wake him up soon.

"Morning Cas." Dean rubbed his eyes as he opened the fridge to pull out the orange juice.

"Good morning, Dean." Cas looked up from the eggs at the small boy wearing dark plaid pajamas.

"When are we gonna wake up Sammy? I know he gets to sleep in late because he doesn't have to go to school on time today-lucky jerk-but I want to give him my present before Bobby picks me up."

"Soon enough. Once I finish breakfast you can wake him up." Dean grinned. Cas though back a moment before adding, "Nicely. It is his birthday, after all. Last time you blew up a paper bag next to his head."

"Well, the kid sleeps like a rock. You know how hard it is to drag him out of bed."

"Even so." Cas smiled, feeling warm again-but still having a deeper feeling of wet and heavy dragging him down. It was not the same as the doubt he felt before when he was unsure if he was being a good guardian. This was more. He had felt it ever since he had decided to disobey, and was unsure what it was. He didn't like it, but he didn't care. He was not going to allow Sam or Dean to march forward obliviously to their destiny.

"Wake up! Breakfast's ready. Even if you get to go to school late, the rest of us still have to do stuff." Sam rolled over to look at Dean. His brother was standing next to his bed, wielding a large gift-wrapped box.

"Is that for me?"

"No, it's for our mailman." Dean rolled his eyes, but smiled to show he wasn't serious, "Yes, it's for you. Now come on and get downstairs. Cas won't let me give it to you until after breakfast."

Sam lifted the comforter and scuffled across the floor. His Garfield pajamas were on backwards, but Dean didn't comment. Sammy had recently begun insisted on dressing entirely on his own, which led to some interesting results. In addition to the shirt being backwards he was already outgrowing the pajamas from Christmas and Dean was getting worried that he'd end up shorter than Sam one day. Though he doubted it, the older brother was always taller. Just look at Dad and Cas.

After making sure everyone ate as quickly as humanly possible (which was hard for Dean with Cas, given that he always chewed his food, like, 30 times) it was finally time to give Sammy his gift.

"It's a transformer! It's Bumblebee!" Sam happily held up the box as he ripped off the remaining wrapping paper.

"Do you like it?" Dean was nervous, it was his first real attempt at gift giving (he'd forgotten Christmas-_good job Dean_), and he hoped Sammy would like it.

"Yeah! This is awesome!" Sam quickly hugged Dean, who pretended he wasn't happy as well (_might as well let him hug me…_). "Thanks Dean!"

"Okay, that's enough." Dean wriggled free from his brother's surprisingly strong grip. "I have to be able to breathe in order to go to school."

Bobby came shortly afterward to pick up Dean for school and told Sam he would bring his gift over that afternoon for their family party. He was glad about the delay, as his gift-a bicycle for Sam-was taking longer to assemble than he would like to admit, _I mean, why on earth would they use both metric and standard bolts? _Once Dean buckled in Bobby's truck (_with the booster, I'm not an idjit, I know you need it_) the two began the short ride across town to the school.

"So, Sam's turning five? Hard to believe he'll be starting regular school in the fall. Not that it'll be too different from now, I suppose." Bobby glanced in the mirror at a minivan who was tailing him a bit close and gave it a brake check. It backed off.

"Yeah, it's kind of…weird how time keeps on going." Dean paused, glancing out the window, "Even with all the stuff that's happened, how it's all so… different. It's nice that we're kinda normal now, that Sammy gets to go to school with me and we don't have to always move." Dean was conflicted, he did love how things were mostly normal now, but he missed Dad deeply. _Why couldn't Dad have been like this? If he wasn't a hunter, we could've met Cas earlier and he could have helped Dad be like him. He could still be here and we could still live like when Mom was alive._

"It certainly is strange how time keeps on. Believe me, when you get to be my age, you'll really know." Bobby thought back to the first time he'd met the two young boys who would become the closest thing he ever had to sons. He had met John the day before at a bar; he'd been looking for another hunter as backup on some hunt_\- I still can't remember what it was, a shapeshifter maybe?_ Bobby had agreed, and was shocked to see the two small faces barely peering over the edge of the backseat window when John met him the next day at his house. The one boy looked like he should be in a preschool, and the other was barely able to even hold himself up on the ledge.

_"John, you never told me you had kids."_ Bobby was not okay with this. Having a family was one thing. Hunting was another. They did NOT mix.

_"Oh, yeah, they're Sam and Dean." _His tone indicated that introducing his children was more of an afterthought than anything else. He simply waved at the two, not even indicating which was which.

_"They're a little young to be hunting…" _Bobby wasn't quite sure of what to say as the older one picked up his little brother and started to carry him toward the house. Somehow the small freckled face already seemed hardened, Bobby was afraid of what the child might have seen at such a young age.

_"For now. But Dean'll be ready soon. That's why I talked to you."_

_"You asked me to help you hunt because your-what three year old-son couldn't do it?"_

_"He's five."_ John had gotten tired of the conversation and decided to go into the house.

Bobby had stared at the two boys for a minute before kneeling down before them,

_"I'm Bobby. Your dad and I are going to work together. Who are you?"_

The older boy looked down at his sneakers (which were clearly on the smaller side for him), a bruise on his shoulder peeked out of his shirt and made Bobby begin to see red._ "I'm Dean. He's Sammy."_ Dean held up the small boy he was carrying.

It was at that moment that Bobby Singer had promised himself, _with God and whatever else good happened to be upstairs_, that he would keep these kids safer than their idjit father could.

And he'd succeeded so far. He'd checked up on Dean (and later Sam, once he could talk) over the phone when John was hunting. He had threatened John at least once to stop leaving his kids alone, but when John fired back about Bobby's graveyard of ghouls under his junkyard (most of which had been inhabiting human bodies when killed), he was forced to back off. After he heard about John's death he thought he would step up as guardian, but it turns out John had a surprisingly normal (well, not really _normal, _as much as not a borderline nutso hunter) brother. Cas was a good guy, a bit slow to warm up and definitely as formal as a Puritan on Sunday with a stick up his ass, but he cared a whole hell of a lot more for these kids than John did normally. John wasn't a bad guy, but he wasn't a great father either.

"Good morning Samuel! And you must be Castiel! It's wonderful to finally meet you!" Ms. Gina beamed as she helped Cas carry in the trays of snacks he had brought for Sam's party. Dean had opted out of the class party (aside from cupcakes strategically planned to interrupt math class), but Sam had insisted on bringing in treats on his actual birthday in addition to a party that weekend. Cas had brought Sam's favorite: chocolate cupcakes with vanilla frosting, as well as rice crispy squares, and a pack of Little Hug juices for the class.

"It is a pleasure to meet you also, I apologize for not shaking hands, but I feel I would not be able to do so and not drop something."

"Not a problem! Here, I have the table in the back cleared off for everything." She put down the rice crispy squares she was carrying, and Cas followed, putting down the cupcakes and juice jugs. As she walked past he smelled a strong perfume, something earthy and dark.

"Class, we have a special treat today!" Four sets of eyes turned towards Ms. Gina and Cas. "Because today is Samuel's birthday his uncle Castiel has brought in some treats for us. Can we all say 'thank you' to Mr. Winchester?"

"Thank you Mr. Winchester." Four small voices rang out in unison.

Castiel stood still for a moment before nodding his head-unsure of what exactly to do (his interactions with groups of children this large were limited-during Dean's party he had had Bobby to assist, but now he was on his own). "You are welcome. I hope you enjoy the treats." He smiled, hoping that he had read the room correctly.

Sam was outside on the jungle gym with the other pre-k and kindergarten students while Cas helped Ms. Gina tidy up the remnants of the earlier party.

"You know you're basically Samuel's hero, right?" she picked up a paper plate and put it in the wastebasket in the corner of the classroom.

"I am?" Castiel was surprised. He knew Sam looked up to him (as most young children do to the parental figure in their lives), but had never considered himself worthy of the title 'hero'.

"You are. Here, this is a picture he drew last week. We practice writing by having the kids draw a picture and then try their best to write a description of what they drew. Samuel's writing is really good, but I think the picture is what really matters here."

Castiel took the piece of paper she offered him and looked at it. Sam had drawn a picture of him, Dean, Bobby, and Castiel standing together in what appeared to be a house. Sam and Dean were both standing next to Castiel, who was wearing a superhero cape which seemed to unfurl to either side, surrounding the two boys. Bobby was also standing nearby, with a cape of his own-though this one was smaller than Castiel's. Outside the house was a large black scribble which Castiel did not understand. Under the image was scrawled a few words with Ms. Gina's corrections and expansions below in blue ink.

"Mi unkL CAsTL and Bab." (My uncle Castiel and Bobby.)

Castiel felt warm again, and that feeling helped dissolve part of that heavy wetness in his chest. He knew it was love. There was no way he could allow this beautiful happy child-_HIS_ beautiful happy Sam-to end up in a battle against his brother. Sam was not evil, even though he had been tainted with demon blood, he was a good child. He saw the goodness in the world, and thought Castiel was his protector.

"It's… beautiful." Castiel smiled

"If you want to take it home you can. I know Samuel asked if he could to show it to you." Ms. Gina smiled.

"Thank you. I think I will."

The evening party with Bobby went well, Sam was amazed at all the present he received, including his first bike (_Don't worry Dean, I got you one too_). It was a pleasant evening. Sam was happy.

Across town Gina Mellor unlocked her house and walked upstairs to her bedroom. The home was mostly tidy, aside from this room, which appeared to have been hit by a windstorm recently. Gina took off her sweater and heels and threw them on the ground haphazardly before walking into the attached bathroom. The small space was dimly lit, with the single remaining bulb above the vanity mirror flickering as she entered. A bowl sat on the Corian countertop along with a knife that looked far more dangerous than an elementary teacher should have. A muffled noise came from the shower. Gina rolled her eyes as she yanked back the curtain. Inside was a man, gagged and bound-Gina's boyfriend, Tim.

"Well, it looks like our separation didn't quite work. You still seem to want to be around me, surely, or you would have left." She lifted the knife from the counter and slowly stroked it with a finger.

"Now Tim, I hate to say this, but I think it's best if we split up…" She smiled wickedly as she plunged the knife into his chest, blood pooling from the wound. He screamed through the gag as she pulled out the knife, slowly.

"Don't worry, I didn't hit anything vital. You've got at least ten minutes to bleed out." She picked up the bowl from the counter and held it beneath the wound, waiting for it to fill. Tim was paling and appeared to be losing consciousness.

"Thanks for always being there for me. I really needed this." Tim collapsed with a thud, gurgling and writhing on the floor of the shower. Gina held up the bowl and started to stir it with her finger, muttering an incantation.

Before she could complete it a bright light shone in the room and an angelic figure wearing a pair of grey pajamas stood before her. He scowled and yanked her hand out of the bowl before he turned to see the man barely holding onto life in the shower.

"Gina, it occurred to me that you referred to Sam as 'Samuel' today. While not in itself, Sam has always stated a preference for Sam-only tolerating the nickname 'Sammy'-and even then, only from Dean. Any good teacher listens to their students. Between that and the overpowering perfume it was evident that you are not his regular teacher. I am going to say this once. Leave him and his brother alone. I am allowing you to live to spread the message. But if you come after my boys I will end you."

Gina collapsed on the ground as a plume of smoke fled from her. Castiel checked her pulse, it was not present. The demon had managed to do enough damage to fatally wound her, likewise the man in the tub was also deceased. He had failed these innocent people. He felt that same heavy feeling, but now with a tug in his chest. It was more than simple guilt, it was much more. Castiel felt he would become familiar with this feeling and he did not like it.


	13. Memorial Day

**Chapter 13: Memorial Day**

"'I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality… I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word', these words spoken by Dr. King all those years ago resonate today as much as ever as we honor our veterans this Memorial Day in a world marked by uncertainty and violence. We must strive for peace, or in the end, there will be nothing left to strive towards."

Castiel shut off the television as the newscaster finished his statement, thinking to himself how the end was already planned, and how he had little idea of how to stop the destiny of the two small boys he had come to love as his own. After the demon left Gina Castiel could not shake the feeling of heaviness and tightness in his chest. He lamented her untimely death and the inevitable impact it would have on the tight-knit community. With time a new emotion joined the ever mingling mix in his chest (how he longed to sometimes feel nothing again-though he could never bear to not feel love again). It was hot and tense, it made his skin feel too tight and his heart (which he normally did not pay much attention to) could not stop beating quickly. He identified it as fear. He knew he was frightened for the boys-if a demon had infiltrated their elementary school it would be exceedingly difficult to keep them safe.

He had already performed the enochian sigil inscription on the boys (feeling immensely guilty afterwards for having to temporarily breach their trust to inscribe the markings); he resolved to discuss warding with Bobby. It would become necessary to protect his home against the demons who would surely attempt to enter. But, for now it was Memorial Day. The boys did not know of his internal struggle and conflict, and it was a school holiday, so the family had invited over Bobby and decided to have a small barbecue, as was customary.

Dean was excited; it was finally warm enough to use the water-guns he and Sam had gotten. Dean had informed Castiel there was an ongoing feud between their street and the children of the cul-de-sac next to it (a good natured one born mostly of the competitive spirit young children often have), and he was looking forward to winning.

"We have eight kids on our block and they have seven. We have the numbers advantage to start with. Plus, most of the houses on our block have fences. Because the cul-de-sac doesn't have many (only two houses), so they have limited defenses. As long as we can manage to lure them out all we have to do is stay concentrated near our house or the Johansson's and we should be able to win." Dean had out a map of their neighborhood the developer had used to sell the lots covered in pencil scrawling. Castiel was amused at the tactical planning, and could see why it had been part of the plan to have Dean as the angels' chosen fighter. He was a natural at strategic thinking.

"You certainly have a thorough plan."

"I have to plan for all contingencies." He paused, looking briefly at the map, "Out of curiosity, how do you start the pressure washer?"

Bobby arrived around noon, bringing with him a cooler full of soda, beer, and enough ground beef to make burgers for everyone in a ten mile radius. He parked the pickup out front and unloaded the cooler from the bed, hefting it and silently cursing his aging back (hell, he wasn't even 40 yet and he felt like he was 90). Dean saw him pull up and opened the front door to let him in, eyeing the cooler with anticipation.

"What did you bring?" He followed Bobby to the patio and waited for him to put down the cooler before he went to flip the top open. Bobby put a hand over the cooler lid.

"I brought meat and some drinks. And I know Cas doesn't want ya to fill up on snacks, or drink your weight in soda. Last time you and Sam had way too much of the stuff and you nearly broke your necks jumping off the garage roof because you wanted to see if you could land in the neighbor's leaf piles. So hands off until I at least get a few burgers cooked. And I'm watching you to make sure you don't end up as nutty as Pee Wee Herman. Three sodas tops."

Dean huffed, "Six sodas, it's a holiday."

"Want me to make it two?"

"Fine. Three." Dean scrunched up his face, trying to give Bobby a stink-eye as he walked back inside.

Bobby chuckled as Dean walked away. The kid might end up intimidating one day, but for now his antics came off as precocious at best. He started the grill and pulled out the meat to start making burger patties.

Half an hour later Dean was surrounded. His plan to lure out the Maple Court kids hadn't gone as he had hoped. He had forgotten about Ava's older brother Richard-he was a sixth grader and had a much longer aim than anyone on Evergreen Lane. It was down to him, Sammy, and Chester-an asthmatic seven year old who could barely hold a water balloon, let alone throw one. Dean kicked himself for not seeing the obvious trap earlier that had gotten three of his best fighters eliminated. Richard-along with two fifth graders- had filled a bucket with water balloons and hid in the bed of a parked truck, springing out to nail Jamie, Lauren, and Mikey. Carl had been hit in the back running away from a barrage, and Quentin had been nailed when he tripped over the curb in front of the Palmucci's house. It was five to three now (Ava had been eliminated earlier, as well as Clark-who was homeschooled) and Dean was desperate.

"Okay. We have about a minute until they close in for the kill. Any ideas before we have to just run?" He eyed Chester and Sammy-neither of whom looked particularly sure what to do. After a pause Sammy spoke up.

"I could make a diversion, and you guys could run off to a safer spot."

"No way am I sacrificing my kid brother. Any other ideas?"

"I'm serious Dean. Chester isn't fast enough to lure them away-no offense-but if I do you guys can run back to the house and grab the hose and spare water balloons we have in the backyard."

"Sammy I said no. I promised I'd never let anything happen to you and that includes you sacrificing yourself." Dean was getting upset, he knew there wasn't any real danger, but it had been the last thing he'd ever said to his father-that he would protect Sammy. And he would. No matter what.

"Well, I'm doing it." Sam smirked and dashed out from the bush they'd been hiding in, avoiding Dean's grabbing arm. "Hey, you Maple Court jerks! I bet you can't get me!" He waved his hands and nimbly ducked two balloons that landed next to him.

"Come on! We have to go!" Chester pulled Dean's arm, snapping him out of the trance he'd been in. Dean brushed it off and quickly ran to his house-a mere forty feet away, with Chester close behind.

"Alright, we have to work fast. I have a feeling that Sammy can only keep them busy so long. Grab the water balloons, I'm getting the hose."

As Dean unrolled the hose he heard a loud 'SPLAT' and a brief cheer-and knew Sam had been hit. "Those bastards…" He muttered, quickly unspooling the hose from the reel and running to the backyard where Chester stood his shirt drenched, along with three others.

"Alright Winchester. Your brother got a couple of us, but now it's just you against the three of us. Put down the hose and take your loss. Maple Court may consider you for balloon filler duty for our next match." Richard smirked.

"You don't know me very well, do you Dick?" Dean smirked at the use of Richard's least favorite nickname, "There's only one way this is ending. And it doesn't end with your victory. Ava! Hit it!"

Ava appeared from behind the trashcans, and flipped a switch on the side of the house. Suddenly half a dozen sprinklers rose out of the lawn and started gushing water. Everyone was soaked.

"Ava?! Seriously?" Richard looked in disbelief at his younger sister as she walked over to Dean. Sam also arrived to see the 'carnage', opening the gate a few seconds after the sprinklers began. He walked over to join them.

"You are kind of a dick, Richard. Besides, Dean asked if I'd be willing to pull a Benedict Arnold and I figured my boyfriend outweighed my older brother and his friends." She pecked Dean on the cheek and he immediately turned bright red.

Richard rolled his eyes, "Well, it was a pretty good plan I guess. Good game Winchester. Rematch next weekend?"

"You can count on it."

Suddenly a loud 'AHEM' was heard as the kids turned to see Bobby standing, drenched, next to the barbecue, "Can you idjits please turn off the sprinklers? My burgers are even soggier than I am!" He groused, wringing out his apron as Sam ran over to flick off the sprinklers.

Castiel had enjoyed watching the children play and was surprised at Dean not chasing immediately after Sam-perhaps he was beginning to mature beyond feeling that he had to be Sam's sole protector. Bobby's burgers were also smelling delicious-but with the sprinklers going off the buns had been ruined.

"I'll go to the store to get new buns." He volunteered, sure that Bobby would be competent enough to watch the boys (he was a hunter-and given the stories he told it was clear he could handle most anything that would dare to face him).

A short car ride later Castiel was at the grocery store, a small basket in hand as he walked briskly to the bakery at the back of the store. He was just glad the store was still open (they were closing in twenty minutes). When he reached the shelf he searched for hamburger buns, only to find most of the brands had sold out. The only ones left were the Pepperidge Farm buns-which cost nearly twice as much. He grabbed two packs and was on the way to the register when he suddenly felt he was unable to move. He looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary, but felt he was fixed in place. He heard footsteps behind him, but could not turn to see what approached.

A man emerged, by his appearance he had been an employee of the store named Randy. Randy's face appeared quite cold, and his eyes were buried beneath a large scowl. "You appear to have developed quite an attachment to these humans, brother."

"Who are you? I know my kind and you are not someone I am familiar with." Castiel was surprised, he thought he knew all the angelic host, but this one-they were unfamiliar to him.

"It matters not who I am. My message is what matters: follow God's will or we will be forced to intervene. We see you defying us, you have hidden the Winchesters by our own markings and have begun to _feel emotions_, giving in to the flesh you inhabit. This is a warning. Do not test us." Suddenly Randy's body convulsed as a bright white light ascended and he collapsed to the floor. Castiel could move again and quickly came over to the man, he was still breathing and his pulse seemed normal.

"Randy? Are you alright?" He asked, hoping the man would respond.

Randy's eyes flashed open as he inhaled deeply, clearly displaying signs of shock. "What the heck just happened?!" His eyes darted around, seeing only a man in khakis and a particularly loud red, white, and blue tie.

"You had some sort of seizure. Are you okay?"

"I think so…"

Castiel helped Randy up and got him to the front register, explaining that he had fallen and had a seizure to the clerk at the register. She had him sit down and after checking Castiel out called an ambulance.

Castiel walked out to the car and sat in the parking lot a moment before he turned the key in the ignition. He had no idea what to do, but he knew he had to defy the plan-even if it mean both heaven and hell were after him.


	14. A Day at the Pool

**Chapter 14: A Day at the Pool**

North Plains had two swimming pools. One was the pool at the high school-which was not open to the public aside from a once-a-month free swim night. The other was the Memorial Park Community Pool.

Memorial Park was a fifteen minute walk from the house, or a four minute car ride (depending on whether Sam and Dean decided they wanted to walk or have Castiel drive). The park was a modest size, but had room for a public pool, band shell, a few pieces of play equipment, and a baseball diamond the local little league teams used. The pool was in the back corner of the park, tucked neatly behind a row of elm trees. It was surrounded by a short brick wall on the front and chain link fence on the sides. There were also a row of sprinklers next to the pool that could be turned on to cool off without having to go in the pool itself.

Castiel had been taking Sam and Dean to the pool a few times each week since the beginning of summer break, with Bobby occasionally accompanying if he wasn't busy at work. It was a Saturday afternoon and Bobby had decided to call it quits early, so he and the three had met at the pool to enjoy some summer sun. After Sam and Dean ran off to join some of the other kids in the pool Bobby and Cas sat down in a pair of lawn chairs by the pool edge. Bobby pulled out a pair of sunglasses and started applying a layer of sunscreen, no point in getting skin cancer from something as stupid as a day in the sun. He glanced over at Cas, who had sat down and folded his hands neatly as he gazed off into the middle distance.

"You even own a swim suit?" Bobby gestured to Cas' seersucker pants and white button down shirt. He'd seen Cas a handful of times at the pool and he hadn't once gone in the water. Usually he just sat off to the side and read a book or chatted with Bobby about work.

"No. I don't care much for water aside from bathing." Castiel replied, which was the truth, he did not know how to swim-his vessel did, but he did not know how to control his body in the intricate manner that was required to combat sinking.

"Fine by me. Half the time the pool is too full of kids to swim anyway."

"Bobby, can I ask you something?" Castiel had been thinking over the best way to discuss warding off demons, and had decided to be forthright with his friend.

"Sure, shoot." He shielded his eyes from the sun. The bright light was giving him a headache.

"I am concerned about the possibility of demons and would like to learn more about warding them off. John's journal mentions a few things, but I would like to know more."

Bobby turned towards Cas, frowning slightly, "Why do you want to know about warding off demons?"

Castiel sighed, wondering how exactly to phrase what he felt without revealing too much, "I am concerned for the boys' safety. After what happened with Sam's teacher I want to make sure they are safe…" He trailed off.

"It was a bit odd, but I checked the scene-old habits die hard-no signs of demonic activity." Bobby saw the normally stoic face crack slightly, a line of worry evident in his pursed lips. "But, if you want I could teach you how to keep them at bay. Although I doubt they'd care about you and the boys. Sure Sam and Dean are a hunter's kids, but there's no reason go after them now that they aren't in the line of fire out hunting God knows what with their idjit father." He paused, realizing he'd just insulted Cas' dead brother, "Not that John wasn't…"

"Stop." Castiel waved his hand. "You don't need to apologize. He was often an 'idjit'. John was a complicated man, he often tried his hardest to achieve his goals-but sometimes he forgot about others in the process." Castiel paused, "Thank you Bobby-I do appreciate the help." He wished what Bobby said was true, that Sam and Dean would not be considered targets any longer due to their father's passing, but unfortunately it was precisely that which had put them directly in the path of both heaven and hell.

"Hey Dean, my mom gave me a few bucks. Wanna help me get some stuff from the snack bar?" Ava leaned over the pool edge. She was wearing a green one-piece swim suit, her hair was up in braids today-_how the hell does she always look amazing?_ Dean swam up to the lip of the pool and smiled.

"Sure you aren't just making another excuse to see me without a shirt on?"

"Dean, I can see your nipples without you getting out of the water. Besides, shirtless or not, I could just ask Richard to help me carry my snacks back to the picnic table." She pointed at her older brother, who was busy trying to impress some girl by doing a back-flip off the high dive. A slapping noise was heard as he ended up doing a particularly painful looking bellyflop.

They both cringed, "After that, I think he'll be out of commission for a while. I'll help you carry your stuff, but I'd better get a Drumstick out of it."

"You'll get a creamsicle." She smirked as he scowled. Dean didn't care much for the orange flavored snacks, but he figured he could negotiate once they got to the counter.

Sam watched as Dean left the pool, he didn't mind. He could swim okay on his own, plus there was a bunch of other kids around to talk to. Sam didn't know most of the kids-aside that they were Dean's friends. One of them, a dark haired boy wearing blue swim trunks, had just jumped off the diving board into the deep end and made a fairly large cannonball. He swam back to the group.

"Think I just set a record. No way any of you guys could beat that."

"No way. I bet I can make a way bigger cannonball than you!" A boy with freckles and a bowl cut challenged.

"Alright. Fine. Cannonball contest. Biggest splash gets the title of 'Cannonball King' and first dibs on pool noodles." There were exactly three good pool noodles out of the dozen or so the pool had-Sam didn't know why, but for some reason they were a coveted item among the other kids.

"You're on!" A girl with braces accepted, and soon everyone had gotten out of the pool and formed a line for the high dive.

Sam nervously eyed the tall platform. It said 10 on it, so he guessed it was ten feet off the ground. It looked a lot taller than that. As each kid in front of him went he saw the splash and heard a mix of cheers and heckling from the other kids. He wanted to be part of the fun, but he'd never gone in the deep end-let alone off the high dive.

As he slowly climbed the ladder up he looked around. Dean and Ava were facing away from him, eating ice cream and drinking sodas at the picnic table in the corner. Bobby and Cas were talking, with Bobby drawing something on paper for Cas to look at. When Sam got to the top he saw how high up he was and nearly wet himself. _Sam don't be a baby. You can do it. It's just water… _

He took a deep breath and ran down the board, then fell ten feet into the cold water. He sank much further than he thought he would, and when he tried to get to the surface he felt the water getting heavy around him. His chest was getting tight and he couldn't seem to reach the surface. He needed air. He really needed air.

A lifeguard whistle is not normally something to fear. Ninety-nine percent of the time it just means someone is running on the pool deck and needs to slow down. A whistle followed by the splash of a lifeguard diving into the pool, however, is something that brings immediate dread. When Dean heard the splash his head immediately snapped around to scan the pool-_Sammy? Where are you? I need to see you…_

When he saw that Sammy wasn't in the shallow end Dean leapt up, tripping over the picnic bench, running to the edge of the pool. The lifeguard-a teenage girl- was dragging someone up from the bottom of the pool-_dear God don't let it be Sammy, don't let it be Sammy, don't let it be Sammy…_

Castiel and Bobby had run over to join the crowd as the lifeguard surfaced, with Sam over her shoulder. Something happened inside Castiel that he had no way of expressing. It was as if someone took the fear he'd felt the last few weeks and multiplied it exponentially. He was physically shaking. This was his charge-his child-whose limp body was being put on the pool deck as a lifeguard started CPR. He shoved the crowd out of his way as he knelt down beside Sam. He wasn't breathing, but he had a pulse.

The CPR did not appear to be working. The pulse was getting weaker, and even with medical attention it was unlikely Sam would be able to survive without brain damage. Castiel knew what he had to do. He closed his eyes and silently prayed, making sure that he did not make his light shine too brightly. His hand grew warm as he felt the healing presence enter Sam, and within seconds he started coughing up the water he'd swallowed.

The lifeguard breathed a sigh of relief. "He's breathing. He's going to be okay."

Dean had been frozen, horrified at the prospect of losing the only brother he had. When he saw Sammy finally start breathing again he rushed forward and pulled him in for a hug. "Don't you ever fucking do that again. I CANNOT lose you Sammy." He didn't care if he was crying-he'd almost lost his brother.

After a trip to the emergency room where the doctors helped Sam void his respiratory system of the rest of the pool water; Cas, Bobby, Dean, and Sam sat huddled together around a table at their favorite pizza parlor. There were many emotions present at the table: anger over not paying closer attention, guilt having failed to notice Sam's initial struggle, and relief over the outcome. Castiel felt like someone had stuck him in a bottle of soda and shook it up. There were too many emotions to process all at once, but he supposed that was part of the experience of them-he was still getting used to it. He was mostly glad, though, because he could not imagine life without the young boy he had come to love as part of his family.

"He used his abilities to intervene in the natural order of things. The loss of the younger Winchester would have assured our victory; in death he would be unable to face his brother. Hell would have been forced to go with a replacement vessel. Why would he keep the child from drowning?"

"Because he has formed an emotional attachment to the child. He has succumbed to the way of humanity. We have warned him. Now we must take action to punish our wayward brother."


	15. Independence Day

**Chapter 15: Independence Day **

"And when you put down the trap I usually use paint, or I carve it into whatever surface it's on-that way it won't rub off if some idjit scuffs it." Bobby was knelt down in the foyer, holding a permanent marker in his hand as he showed Cas how to put down devil's traps, one of the multiple precautions that Cas had insisted be installed around the house. "You sure you wanna go through all this? I get the whole 'keep the boys safe' thing, but don't you think they might end up paranoid seeing a ton of these put up in random places?"

"I suppose that is a risk. Knowing their past it may cause trepidation if they see these. I want them to feel secure, even though there is still a risk of supernatural interference. Is there any way to protect the house more discretely?" Castiel hadn't initially considered the boys' reactions to the precautions-though, given their history with the supernatural it was likely it would not be a positive one.

"Well, I could try placing some protection wards in the attic-they protect the whole structure they're in. Now, they won't keep everything out, but most demons can't get through. Could still hide a few devil's traps too-underside of rugs, things like that."

Castiel thought that sounded sufficient-at least for the moment, before nodding in agreement, "Excellent. I'll get the paint from the garage."

By the time Sam and Dean returned from their day out with the other neighborhood kids the house had been effectively warded. Bobby and Castiel had spent most of the day painting various runes and sigils on the plywood of the roof (all while sweating in the miserable heat of the unfinished attic). Bobby finished up around four and told Cas he was being a bit paranoid, but that his heart was in the right place-_guy probably read more of John's journal and freaked out about some of the nastier stuff-_and after a few beers decided to head home, there was a Datsun with a particularly fussy starter he had to fix. Castiel was partially assuaged of his fear, but he still knew the forces of heaven and hell were after the boys-and he could not fully protect them from heaven's influence without effectively cutting himself out of their lives. He had a difficult time processing all the thoughts and new compounding emotions. He wished he could turn it all off-no, not really, he liked the paternal love he felt as well as the sensation of warmth that accompanied friendship with Bobby-he really only wanted to turn off all the bad parts. Unfortunately, part of having emotions was having ones you did not enjoy.

The next morning was Independence Day. Castiel thought it more than a bit amusing that the United States so despised being under British rule that they annually celebrated the day they declared themselves free from British oppression. Yet, these few hundred years later the United States and Britain were close allies-it just further demonstrated the fact that all things change given time. Well, all things but angels-Castiel had been the same individual since time began. However, with his acclimation to his vessel he wondered if perhaps it was in fact possible for angels to change.

Before he could consider the thought too carefully Sam and Dean ran down the stairs two at a time, halfway opening the front door before Castiel called out to stop them. "Sam? Dean? What are you doing? We have not yet had breakfast."

Sam and Dean looked at each other for a minute before turning to Cas. Dean was silent a moment before realizing he had forgotten to eat in his excitement, "Oh yeah-sorry. Ava and some of the guys are going into town to be in the parade. They let us ride our bikes as long as they're decorated. I did mine and Sammy's yesterday." Sam nodded in agreement.

"That sounds like quite nice. But perhaps you could have told me your plan?" Castiel raised an eyebrow while keeping his face neutral-Bobby did this to indicate the fact that he should have been told something earlier and it appeared to be effective on the boys.

"Sorry Cas. I guess I kind of forgot. Can I call Ava and tell her I'll be there in a bit?"

"Certainly. Besides, I want to see your creations. They must be something quite good if you're going to be in the parade."

After a quick phone call and an even quicker breakfast of poptarts with milk, Sam and Dean led Cas to the garage. "Since the parade starts at noon we thought we could get a ride with Ava in her dad's truck and put our bikes in the back. She isn't leaving for a bit-turns out I wrote down the wrong time-but anyway, here's the bikes."

Dean pushed open the garage door, straining to get it above his head. The garage was relatively modest, being designed for two cars it was already half full with John's impala parked in the left bay. In the right side there was a mess of lawn care supplies, a washer and dryer, and of course all the boys' outdoor toys and sports equipment. Behind a pile of newspapers-_which I need to take to the recycling center this week_-were the two boys' bikes. Dean's was decorated with a large American flag hanging off the back and red, white, and blue streamers wrapped around the body. Sam's was also decorated with streamers and two small flags hanging from the handlebars. Sam had also written 'U.S.A' in large block letters on a sheet of paper and tied between the flags on the front of his bike.

"I wanted to put red, white, and blue felt flowers on mine like Ava, but Dean said it'd be girly." Sam huffed, still sore about being told not to.

"They are girly." Dean rolled his eyes, "Why do you think _Ava_ put them on _her_ bike?"

Castiel saw the slight tension and decided to placate the boys, "In any case, both your bikes look appropriately patriotic. I can't wait to see them during the parade."

The parade was a typical small town Americana. The local police and fire departments had shined up a handful of vehicles to present, there were the local veterans in their military best, the school band, the festival court (including Ava's oldest sister Macy as July Queen), a few ethnic heritage groups (German, Polish, and Scottish clubs), and the kids riding bikes. After dropping off the boys at the start of the route Castiel met up with Bobby. The two had brought lawn-chairs and chatted idly as they waited for the parade to pass by. Bobby popped a few Tylenol-_these migraines are killing me_\- before pointing at the parade cresting the small hill of Main Street. When Sam and Dean arrived they stood up and waved, and the two boys waved back.

The parade ended after an hour, and the evening consisted of a barbecue and another water-war with the Maple Court kids (this time Dean's strategy didn't pay off and he ended up doused with a large bucket of water courtesy of Richard). After gorging themselves on hotdogs and hamburgers the boys continued to run around with the neighbors until dusk approached.

"When do the fireworks start?" Sam excitedly asked, eyeing the darkening sky.

Castiel frowned; he was unfamiliar with 'fireworks'. The word held some meaning-but he did not know what it was. He had briefly looked up Independence Day in the encyclopedia set, but the main point of the article was discussing the actions of the colonies to defeat the British. _What on earth would fire have to do with celebrating independence?_

Bobby glanced at his watch, "Should be any minute now. Come on, we can get a better view from up high." Bobby pulled the ladder out of the garage and leaned it up against the side of the house. He motioned for them to climb up, and the four were soon seated comfortably on the roof overlooking town. The sky was mostly dark with a few pinpricks of stars. The moon was waning, and just becoming high in the sky as a short crack was heard in the distance. A single red streak flew into the air before it burst into a kaleidoscope of colorful sparks. This was followed by many more, some blue, white, yellow, green, and even purple. It was breathtaking; Castiel had never before seen such beauty so intensely on earth.

"Oh! I think this is the finale!" Dean excitedly pointed at the horizon, where a dozen small streaks were climbing into the air.

A burst of color lit up the sky as a series of explosions kept firing off in short succession. It lasted less than a minute, but it was glorious. When it ended the town returned to its darkened state. The street lights were just turning on and in the distance the farms could be seen, their total darkness framing the lit windows of the small town.

"That… was beautiful." Castiel was in awe of the fact that mere men could make such beauty. It nearly captured the glory of heaven. He could feel himself shivering, his skin having goosebumps. He was unsure if it was from his emotional state (which was likely because emotions had a tendency to have physiological reactions), or from the slight breeze on the cool July night causing a chill.

"I really liked the big green one in the middle." Sam smiled as Bobby helped him down the ladder.

"That's just because you like green." Dean teased, good humouredly.

"So? I bet your favorite were those big orange ones." Sam retorted, carefully stepping onto the grass below. "You like orange a lot. Remember when Ava wore that orange dress last week?"

Dean blushed, his red cheeks still visible in the dark. "Shut up. I might like orange, but that one that looked like a big dandelion was the best." Dean defended his choice as he grabbed a middle rung.

It was a pleasant Independence Day. Castiel was glad that things were calm, at least for the moment. He wished it would remain that way, but had an unfortunate feeling that things would not be calm much longer.


	16. Back to School

**Chapter 16: Back to School**

July passed, as did most of August, and summer was drawing to an end. The calm had continued and Castiel hoped that perhaps-through some divine intervention-he was being spared having to fight to defend the children he had come to consider his own. His internal struggle remained his own (mostly). While Bobby was aware of his concern he had refrained from divulging the true motivations behind it, and the boys he had kept entirely apart from the concern-they were children and there was no reason for them to again have to consider the horrors of the supernatural they had already too much exposure with.

Castiel had finally managed to get a doctor's appointment for the boys two weeks before school started, and they were not happy about the development.

"Why do we have to go to the doctor? We're not sick." Sam asked as Cas buckled him into his carseat.

"Because I need to make sure you are both healthy. Unfortunately I don't have your current medical records-as your father hadn't taken either of you to proper doctors for years after he started hunting-and we need to make sure you are both well."

"I swear if someone tries to give me a shot I'm going to kick their butt." Dean crossed his arms, clearly unhappy over the prospect of having to deal with needles-one of his largest phobias following flying.

"No you won't. If you get a shot-which is quite possible-it is to keep you from getting sick. I will be there to assist you and make sure the doctor is doing what is best for you." Castiel placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and smiled, his gesture appearing to help comfort in some small capacity.

The closest doctor's office was in town, though to describe it as an office was somewhat charitable. North Plains had a clinic: it was the doctor, dentist, and optometrist all in one small building. The first floor was the dentist and the second was the doctor and optometrist office. After signing in Castiel picked up a copy of National Geographic discussing lemurs and sat down in one of the small plastic chairs. Dean was flipping through a copy of Car and Driver looking at pictures of various Ferraris. Sam sat on the floor and played with a few toys in the small children's corner. After about ten minutes the nurse greeted Castiel and had him bring Sam and Dean back to the room for screening.

There were two small patient rooms on the left and the optometrist's office on the right. The nurse motioned for the three to sit in the first room. "Alright, before Dr. Thorman comes in we're going to do a couple quick activities with you boys. First I'll weigh and measure you; then check your eyes, ears, and reflexes. When the doctor comes in he'll talk to you a bit and check to make sure you're healthy and up to date on everything. Does anyone have any questions?"

"Am I going to get a shot?" Dean was standing next to the door, eyeing a potential escape route-_screw it, I'm only in my underwear right now but I'd rather be embarrassed than stuck like a pig at a luau._ Cas quickly moved to shut the door and Dean scowled.

"It does look like you need a shot or two." She flipped over a sheet of paper on her chart, "Unfortunately you're behind on a few, and the couple we do have record of need boosters. But most of these are minor ones, none of them will hurt much more than a little tenderness for a day or so."

Dean's eyes dilated and he eyed the door with increased intensity, before shifting his gaze back to the nurse, "Exactly how many shots do I need?"

"Looks like… four immunizations and two boosters, so six total."

Dean paled before Sam placed his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Don't worry Dean. I'm gonna end up with shots too. We can get them together."

"While I appreciate the gesture Sammy, I mainly don't want any…"

After grabbing Dean twice and finally deciding to let him run the third time to let him embarrass himself and trudge back to the room, Nurse Kline measured and weighed the boys. Sam was much taller than expected, and Dean was also a bit above average. Everything was normal until the eye test. Sam went first and was able to pass easily, being able to use the adult chart because he knew all his letters. When Dean went there was a noticeable issue.

"Uh… O, A, T, K, P, Q, I, C?" Dean guessed, staring at the indicated line.

"Okay… Dean, what line can you comfortably read all the letters at?" Nurse Kline gestured towards the numbers on the left side.

"Line 5?"

"Okay, and what does that say?"

"P, E, C, D, F."

"Alright. Dean, do you normally wear glasses?" Nurse Kline was writing something down in pen on his chart, it made him uneasy.

"No, not normally."

"Have you ever been told you needed glasses?"

"No…"

"Well, given this screening I believe we should have a more thorough examination to check, but I believe you need corrective lenses."

Dean was mortified. He couldn't wear glasses. He was Dean Winchester-the cool kid, the bad boy. Nerds wore glasses-no offense Sam Kennedy-he was not a nerd.

"Ah-got you! I was just kidding, want me to really read the line this time? I was just pretending to see if you were paying attention…" Dean knew his lie wasn't working but refused to let himself be relegated to wearing a massive chunk of plastic and metal on the front of his face. "It's uh…"

"Dean, it is perfectly normal to wear glasses. If you need them to see, then you will wear glasses. I know they may not be 'cool', but I think being able to function is more important than appearances. And besides, when you are older we may consider contacts. Maybe." Castiel asserted, before adding, "Bobby has to wear glasses to read. I consider him to be pretty cool. Just give it a chance."

The boys' ears and reflexes were both fine, and after Dr. Thorman administered the shots-_GOD DAMNIT DOC, how on earth is there another one?!-_Cas took Sam back to the waiting room while Dean was given an eye exam by Dr. Rosen. He emerged shortly afterward and beckoned Cas and Sam back to his office.

The right room was larger than the others, with a chair and eye exam equipment in the back and a small rack with a variety of glasses in the front. Dean was timidly facing away from the others as they walked in.

"Alright Dean, we're all here, go ahead and show us what you chose." Dr. Rosen encouraged.

Dean turned around and fiddled with his hands. He was wearing a pair of aviator glasses with a gradient tint, fading from a dark brown to almost clear at the bottom.

"Well… how much of a dork do I look like?" He shifted, uncomfortable with the recent addition to his daily attire.

"Dean, you do not look like a dork you are the same young man you've always been. Besides, glasses are only a small part of your appearance. And I believe these are actually quite flattering." Castiel smiled encouragingly-_positive reinforcement is key after all-_"What do you think Sam?"

"You kinda look like that guy from 'Top Gun'. Only his glasses were all the way black and yours are only, like, half brown-ish." Sam nodded, knowing that his brother needed to be told positive things at this moment.

"You think I look like Tom Cruise? Well, I do have the same rugged jaw line…" He stroked his chin in the mirror, smiling. "Maybe these things aren't all bad…"

School started on September 6th, which meant Dean had been wearing his glasses for a little over a week when he walked back into the brick school building. He was in fourth grade now-officially one of the older kids. He got to each lunch later and could try out for the intramural sports teams. Sam followed close behind, excited to be starting kindergarten.

"What do you think the other kids'll be like? Cas said there'd be more because not all of them go to pre-k but everyone goes to kindergarten… I hope there's a lot of them!" He excitedly bounded behind Dean, who was smirking at his brother's glee-not that he also wasn't excited to be back with his friends. Dean made sure Sam went to the right room before walking down the hall to his new class. Well, new classroom-it wasn't like he didn't already know the other eleven students…

Dean's new classroom was opposite the third grade, this room faced the street instead of the rear field. Not as great a view, but there usually wasn't too much time to daydream anyway. His new teacher, Mrs. Peterson had the class arranged alphabetically-which meant he was at the back right corner (Winchester was almost always last). Sam Kennedy was in front of him, and Ava was only two desks away-_damn it Max, why'd your last name have to be Russell?_

After everyone finally finished chatting (not that most of them didn't know what the others had been up to-Dean had had almost everyone in the class over multiple times through the summer to hang out) Mrs. Peterson made an announcement, "Class, this year we have a new student joining us. Please welcome Mister Gus St. Cloud."

A thin boy walked in. He had dark brown hair and piercing brown eyes, which contrasted greatly with his skin-which was a few shades lighter than the rest of the class. He wore a black t-shirt over a pair of jeans and red converse high tops.

"Actually, it's McCloud-my old school mislabeled me, and they must have forgotten to correct the file when it was sent here." He grimaced as he spoke, as if he knew too well how often his name had been incorrectly stated over the years.

"Well, I'm sorry about that, I'll have to fix your name tag. For now, in any case, you'll be sitting between Dean and Max in the back row. Before you sit down, is there anything you'd like to say to the class?"

"It's nice to be here, lot nicer than where I come from. Can't wait to meet all of you. I think it's going to be really fun here."

Sam's class was double the size of the previous year. He had no idea there were so many kids his age in town-up to this point he'd only known of the four others in his class. After greeting Carol the two of them made rounds to introduce themselves to the new kids. Most of them seemed nice, but not really interesting. Zach was pretty fun, though.

Zach was easily the biggest kid in the class-which was hard to do with Sam being nearly four feet tall. He was a hair taller than Sam, and seemed stockier as well. He'd been held back a year (apparently he had trouble with his numbers and letters), which meant he knew how things worked. This came in handy when rug time started and Mrs. Hernandez was suddenly speaking gibberish, "_Buenos dias, clase_."

"_Buenos dias, Senora Hernandez_." Zach chimed back.

"_Gracias_, thank you Zach." She smiled; he smiled and nodded back, familiar with their routine. "I'm sure the rest of you are a bit confused. What I just said was 'good morning' in Spanish, my native language. This year I'm going to teach you a few words and phrases in Spanish to use in the classroom. Don't worry if you don't get them at first, it can take a while to learn them!"

Sam was interested, he had no idea people could speak other words to mean the same thing. Whatever Spanish was, it was neat. He learned a few other phrases that day for things around the room, but the only one he remembered was "_pluma_" meant pen. Zach seemed to know all of them, _maybe he could teach them to me sometime_.

The boys were back to school, which meant Castiel was back to work full-time. Over the summer he reduced his hours to spend most of his time with the boys (using Bobby or one of the neighbors to babysit when he showed houses), but with summer's end he was back to work and had an open house to conduct.

34 Rose Street was by all means a 'cute and cozy cape'. Castiel was especially proud of himself for the alliteration (it had taken him twenty minutes with a thesaurus to get it correct-_wordplay is exhausting!_). The small cream colored house was empty, the previous owners having moved to a different house across town (courtesy of Betsy Rubenstone, the client stealing-what is that word Dean always uses?-jerkbag?), but for the sale listing they came to Castiel and asked for his help (Betsy had failed to mention a roof repair and had fallen from their grace). So here he was, 9:15 on a Tuesday morning in early September setting up a plate of assorted cookies as he waited for the first person to walk through. Usually these weekday open houses were duds-most people worked-but if the seller insisted, who was he to judge?

As he sat down on a folding chair next to a table he'd set up with brochures he heard the front door open. A man in his thirties walked in, appraising the house-_probably the hardwood floors, people seem enamored with dead trees as flooring for some reason_.

"Hello. I'm Castiel Winchester, the realtor. Would you like me to show you the property, or would you like to look on your own?" He did his best to sound excited-even though he was not too sure that this man was able to afford the house-based upon his shabby appearance and ripped clothes.

Suddenly the man was inches from Castiel's face, his arm grabbing tightly the navy tie that lay around his neck. His eyes suddenly flashed from a dull grey to solid black as he grinned menacingly. "I think I'd rather have you show me your intestines strung from that _delightful_ chandelier in the entry." He singsonged, holding a knife to Castiel's chest.

Castiel was taken aback for a moment-this was brash, even for a demon. "Before I send you back to where you came from, let me make it abundantly clear how unwise the decision you've just made was." He easily broke free of the grab and disarmed the demon, making the knife slide well out of reach across the floor. He then extended his arm and placed his hand on the demon, white light pouring from his hand. But instead of a cloud of smoke pouring out the demon merely chuckled.

"Aw… does the angel have a problem getting rid of little old me?" He grabbed Cas' arm and twisted it until a pop was heard. Castiel grimaced, he was unused to bodily pain. He was unsure of how the demon had resisted his power, but he only had a few moments to figure out before it decided it got bored of breaking his arm and decided to get more serious. He fought it off and managed to memonetairly pin the demon before it broke free and tossed him across the room into the kitchen, knocking against a cabinet. He noticed a small mark on the man's arm-a circle with a line in it-surely this must be some sort of sigil or seal.

Cas regretted sending the knife across the room as he charged to grab it (left handed, as his right hand was lying limp at his side), diving out of the demon's reach then turning around to slice the circle and again attempt to banish the evil being from its host. This time it was successful.

The man collapsed to the floor-breathing heavily from the fight. Castiel quickly picked him up and sat him on the chair, using a paper towel to clean the cut. When he came to Castiel helped him up and told him it was an anxiety induced mental break, and advised him to seek a therapist. He regretted lying, but given the truth, it was likely in the man's best interest to not contemplate having been worn by a creature from hell.

There were no other visitors during the open house, which gave Castiel plenty of time to worry about the latest development in demon possession. If it was now possible for demons to lock themselves into hosts, it would be considerably harder to kill them without harming the host in the process. He supposed it was only logical that they would master this ability during his time looking after the boys-humanity was mostly a series of ironic coincidences, why should his life be any different?


	17. Halloween

**Chapter 17: Halloween**

"So, we really get to go trick 'r treating this year?" Sam excitedly latched onto the front of the shopping cart as Castiel pushed it toward the pop-up Halloween store that had opened in the former Eckerd Drug store in town. A vinyl banner declared that Halloween was only six days away and the younger brother was excited to get a chance to really celebrate Halloween. It would be the first time he got to participate in the annual candy-receiving custom, last year they had been too busy with the funeral to go out, but Cas had given them candy anyway.

"Yes. I've arranged for Bobby to take you two around the neighborhood with some of the other children while I hand out candy." Castiel pushed the cart through the entrance, the sliding doors squeaking as the family entered the former drug store.

"Woah, that's a lot of costumes." Dean was impressed. There were easily a dozen aisles full of costumes in plastic bags. Each aisle seemed themed around some common trait-classic horror, princesses, rock stars, and so on. Dean's gaze floated from section to section as he stood by the entry before he spotted something. "I see what I want!" He immediately ran to the last aisle, nearly knocking over a display of plastic pumpkins.

"Dean! Careful!" Castiel followed him around the corner, more carefully pushing the cart to avoid bumping the displays on either side of the narrow lane the store had set up for customers to squeeze through.

The last aisle was a hodge-podge of miscellaneous left over costumes that didn't fall into a distinct category. There were Smurfs, a Terminator, a few non-branded 'Videogame Plumbers' and a rack of mis-matched clearance items. But in the middle of all that was the holy grail of costumes for Dean.

"They got Han Solo! Look at it!" Dean happily held up the box which had been reduced so many times the original price was covered in half a dozen stickers. The costume appeared to have been a tie in with the original film nearly a decade earlier, but otherwise seemed in good condition. According to the box it should fit a child Dean's size, and for a paltry $5.99 Castiel could afford to get him a second costume as a backup in case this first one turned out to be in poor shape due to its age.

"I thought you liked Chewbacca best?" Sam had detached from the cart and was looking at different costumes hanging on the clearance rack.

"Hell no! Han's the badass with a laser pistol. Chewy only has a crossbow…"

"Alright, I'll get this one for you-but just in case there's any issues with it, which there might be given its age, why don't you also pick one out from the racks in the middle of the store." Castiel placed the box in the cart as Dean nodded, but hoped the costume would be fine.

Sam decided on a Rubik's cube for his costume, the plastic packaging explaining how the cube was made of fabric and would unfold so it could be worn, yet be able to bend to allow mobility. Dean also grabbed a mummy costume out of the classic monster section as his backup costume.

Halloween was a Monday and the school allowed students to wear their costumes to class (sans masks). Dean's Han Solo costume was a success, and Sam could manage his cube alright, though it wouldn't work with his car seat, so he had it folded up on the ride to school.

"Sam, Dean?" Castiel looked in the rearview mirror at the boys as he spoke, "Bobby's coming over tonight at six to take you two through the neighborhood while I hand out candy." Castiel stopped at a crosswalk and watched as other children wearing costumes walked toward the school.

"And we can bring our friends along?" Sam fussed with the cube costume, pulling at a tag on the side which had been bothering him earlier.

"Yes, though only one or two each. I'm sure Bobby has no desire to corral a dozen children while going between houses."

"Okay, I'll bring Ava and Gus."

"Gus? Who's Gus?" Castiel was perplexed, he knew all the children in Dean's class from various social events and did not remember a Gus.

"He's the new kid. Just moved into town. Pretty cool, actually." Dean wondered what his costume would be-Ava was going as Superwoman-but Gus had remained tight lipped so far, promising it would be a good payoff.

_Great, Betsy Rubenstone strikes again… _Castiel though grumpily, upset at having not even known about this sale being taken from him.

"I'm bringing Carol and Zach." Sam looked out the window, happily thinking about the stomachache he would have after eating his weight in candy that night.

Before Cas could ask who Zach was-_am I really that out of touch with my boys' friendships?_-the school came into view and the two had disembarked and crossed the parking lot, Dean holding Sam's hand as they entered the building.

Sam broke off from Dean at his room and squished his costume through the door, he waved goodbye as the teacher greeted him and Dean continued down the hall to his room. Most of the other students were there, and Ava greeted him at the door. _Holy hell she looks amazing_, "Hey Ava. Nice costume, you look really good."

"You look pretty good yourself. Nice choice, though I always figured you were more of a Chewbacca guy." She smiled.

Dean blushed a bit at her grin, _damn it, how does she always know exactly what to do?_, "I get that a lot. I'm more for a pistol than a crossbow. Plus I like being a character that can speak English instead of random roaring…"

She giggled, "Well, I guess it would be kind of hard to participate if all you could do is roar. Did you see Gus? I wonder what his costume is. He made it seem like it was going to be some big deal."

As if to answer her question Gus walked in the door. He was wearing a pair of tall black boots, blue pants, a blue military style shirt with polished gold buttons, a red cape, and a helmet with a COBRA insignia on the front. No face mask though, so he could see, and to avoid violating the school's no mask policy.

The entire room was silent for a few seconds before someone commented. It was Sam Kennedy, "Dude, that is an awesome COBRA Commander costume!"

"Thanks. It took weeks to make it. I had to have my mom sew some of it, but I did a lot of it." He spun around, showing off his cape.

"Well, there goes my chances of getting the most candy…" Dean rolled his eyes as everyone sat down for class.

"Better luck next year-after all, you know better than to try to beat me. Fate has it I'm pretty lucky."

Sam's costume was easily the best in his class. Not that he was judging anyone else's costumes, well, okay he was kind of. Most of the other boys were wearing a TMNT or Transformers costume (there were three Optimus Primes), and every girl except Carol was a princess. She was a cowgirl.

"My mom said I had to use my sister's old costume this year because she wasn't going to buy another one I'd end up ruining with chocolate before I left the house." She picked up another block to perch on the precarious tower that her and Sam were building.

"How'd you get chocolate on your costume before going trick or treating?"

"I ate some of the candy my parents were giving out. If it wasn't for a Mr. Goodbar melting on my shirt I would have been fine…" She muttered as she frowned, clearly harboring a grudge against the Hershey company.

Zach's costume wasn't bad, he was dressed as Marty McFly-even managed to get the hair right-but he hadn't seen much of the movie, so his delivery of the lines was subpar at best.

"I need 1.21 gigawatts to take this Delorean back to my future!" Zach shouted as he pushed a Hotwheel car across the carpet toward Sam and Carol's tower.

"It's 'Marty, we need 1.21 _jigawatts_ to send you back to the future'." Carol corrected, rolling her eyes.

"Close enough, besides, as long as my costume's okay who cares if I know the lines?"

That night the group had congregated at the Winchester's house. Zach had been driven over by his parents with Carol (they lived near each other), and Gus and Ava had both walked. Gus arrived last, and everyone else was waiting inside for him.

The size four sneakers crunched along the concrete as he rang the bell. Castiel had decorated the entire house, and it was evident. Everything from the doormat to the roof were Halloween themed. Fake cobwebs hung on the door and windows, and the lawn had a few fake tombstones.

Dean opened the door and welcomed him in. "No way, we've got houses to hit! Get out here and let's go!" Gus held up a map of the town with a route outlined in red pencil.

Dean couldn't agree more. After pie, candy was his second favorite treat. "Works for me. Let me get Bobby, he's taking us around."

Gus groaned, "Seriously? Aren't we a little old to be supervised walking from house to house?"

Dean frowned, "We might, but Sammy and his friends aren't. Besides, Bobby's cool."

Bobby hadn't ever really done trick or treating before. When he was a kid he lived too far out from anyone else to even consider walking door to door, and never having had kids of his own (well, _biological kids_-Sam and Dean were his boys almost as much as they were Cas') he hadn't been on the parental side of it either. Yet, here he was making sure these idjits didn't run into traffic or start a fight with another kid while also trying to keep everyone from eating their weight in cheap chocolate before they got back to the house. It didn't help that for some reason Zach and Gus seemed to have it in for each other. Every time he had his back turned for even a second while dealing with one of the other kids one of them would start messing with the other one. Bobby sighed as he walked down another street with the kids; their boundless energy meant he was going to have to take another Tylenol-more than just his head was going to hurt tomorrow morning.

Back at the house Cas was enjoying the opportunity to engage in a new holiday tradition. Humans certainly found a way to celebrate constantly, and they usually liked to include food. Halloween was a dangerous night, the barriers between this realm and others were paper thin, but thankfully North Plains was devoid of any occult activity. Giving out candy to costumed children was an odd act-normally it would be socially unacceptable-but tonight it was considered normal. One thing did concern Castiel though, there was a much higher than expected number of children dressed in angel and demon costumes. Perhaps it was his innate anxiety, but it seemed to be some sort of omen. _Deep breaths Castiel. You have the house protected. The children are with a group of peers and an extremely competent ex-hunter. There is nothing to worry about. Heaven and Hell may be involved, but at the moment there is nothing to fear…_

"It appears as if we are not the only ones who considered infiltration. Apparently our counterparts thought the same, as disgusted as I am to admit that they could have the same thoughts as us."

"Our agent reported it?"

"Yes, apparently the two interacted recently. However, it would be wise to see how this continues. If they are successful in their goal it may help us achieve our desires as well."

"As you command, Uriel."


	18. Black Friday

**Chapter 18:Black Friday**

"As you can see, Ted, this is the largest crowd we've had to date here at the Crestdale Mall. This year we have an estimated fifteen thousand shoppers descending on the mall as the staff here prepares to open the gates in a few minutes. Holiday experts are anticipating higher foot traffic and higher holiday spending this holiday season as 1988 marks another high point for major retailers across America. Many retailers are now using aggressive Black Friday deals to steal customers from competitors, as individuals have more choice now than ever before on where and how to spend their holiday funds." The newswoman smiled as the camera crew recorded her segment for the local news.

Bobby rolled his eyes, he hated local news. Not only was it nearly always wrong (when it came to actual news), but the hosts were usually just a parade of idjits who could barely read the teleprompter. But he didn't have time to think about the idiocy of the news much longer-it was 6:57. The mall would open in three minutes and he and Cas would have to fight their way through the mob of people amassed at the stainless steel and plate glass doors in front of them. Apparently Cas had never gone shopping on Black Friday before, but Bobby figured he'd manage. Cas seemed pretty decent when it came to his instincts, and what little of his reflexes Bobby'd seen (mostly stopping Sam or Dean from hurting themselves or running into something stupid) were pretty quick as well. They'd have to be if they would manage their planned shopping trip.

The Crestdale Mall was a half-hour from North Plains, and was easily the largest shopping mall in the area. The week before Bobby and Cas had taken the boys to the mall to have them point out things they were interested in-or stores they liked. Cas had gotten a few copies of the mall map and directory and he and Bobby had planned carefully their route, marking the stores the boys were interested in. Crestdale was a two floor mall with four main anchor stores: Bloomingdales, Sears, Bonton, and J.C. Penny's. Each of these sat at the four corners of the mall. Between them ran lines of shops on both floors facing the central atrium where the food court stood. Bobby hadn't gone shopping here before, but he was familiar with Black Friday crowds-before he was a hunter it was an annual tradition for him.

The first stop for the two of them was the Sears. After managing to shove through the crowd the two of them rushed across the food court and entered the Sears' first floor. The bulk of their shopping would happen here. Castiel looked around as hundreds of other shoppers swarmed through the store. A young employee-likely not even eighteen-had his eyes become the size of dinner plates as a handful of middle aged women started clawing at a rack of sweaters, nearly knocking a mannequin on top of him. Castiel was surprised at the hostility of the other shoppers, though he could understand their desperation in a certain sense-as all the advertisements had boldly stated 'BLACK FRIDAY ONLY SALE: QUANTITIES ARE LIMITED'. Nevertheless, it was still a bit of a shock to the angel to watch the other shoppers nearly tear the store apart looking for what they wanted. Humanity was always a puzzle.

Bobby looked over at Cas' surprised expression as a man jumped over a pile of folded khakis to grab a certain pair off the wall. "I know it's your first time and everything, but we have to get a move on, as tempting as it may be to watch Sue and Sarah housewife destroy a bunch of cardigans. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if we end up with a few scrapes or bruises by the end of it." He smirked, as Cas seemed to snap out of his trance.

The two boarded the escalator in the store to bring them to the second level, where both children's clothing and toys and games were located. Castiel remembered sorting through the mail to find a nearly textbook sized magazine Sears wedged into the box. Sam and Dean had gone through the Sears Wishbook excitedly and created a comprehensive list to purchase, and Bobby had informed him that shopping on this one day could apparently help him save 'a bundle'.

After raiding a toy aisle filled with various boxes of board games and cards (grabbing Sam's magic set and Dean's uno cards), the two continued through the toy department. Hot Wheels, action figures, a chemistry set (_why does Dean want a chemistry set?_), a handheld electronic football game, and a slew of other toys later had Bobby and Cas finished with the bulk of the list. Cas was quite pleased, most of the items were discounted to a fair degree-though he imagined still well marked up above the manufacturer's break even or the stores'-and he was going to spend considerably less than he'd anticipated.

Most of the children's clothing was not Dean or Sam's particular style (or size, for that matter), so Castiel decided that he and Bobby would pay and go to a different store to look for the clothing they needed to purchase. "Bobby, there doesn't appear to be clothing of either correct style or size for Dean nor Sam here, I advise we try a different store."

"Yeah, it looks pretty picked over. J.C. Penny's is next on the game plan, but I think we might need to make a quick detour and drop this stuff off at the car. I'm not carrying forty pounds of shit for the whole day; I already have a bad enough back."

After they dropped off the purchases from Sears in the car Bobby and Cas again descended into the fray that was modern consumerism embodied. J.C. Penny's was closer to the car, so it was less of a dash and more a quick walk to the store. Mercifully the children's department appeared untouched-having been placed awkwardly in a back corner of the second floor behind electronics (almost none of which were marked down). Castiel picked out a few shirts and sweaters for the cooler weather that was rapidly setting in as Oregon began to turn towards winter, and Bobby also grabbed a few items.

Checkout was followed by a brief detour into Waldenbooks to get Sam a new "Where's Waldo?" book and Dean a copy of the newest Redwall-_apparently anthropomorphic medieval animals were entertaining to read about for children_-and a short stop in Spencer's Gifts to allow Bobby to pick something up for Castiel which he refused to allow him to see. All he knew was that the wicked gleam in Bobby's eye as he carried the opaque black bag with the store logo emblazed on it worried him slightly, though not too deeply as he knew Bobby would never get him anything too risqué.

The Spencer's was on the second floor, so it was necessary to find an open escalator down in order to get to the car. This was easier said than done. Most of the mall was still packed with shoppers, and there were few escalators open enough to get on. Bobby managed to spy one and he and Cas headed toward it. Cas was momentarily distracted by a sign on one of the store fronts and stopped slightly short of the escalator. Bobby was about to board when suddenly a blonde woman wearing a green turtleneck shoved him face-first down the escalator.

Castiel was horrified, quickly trying to reach out to grab Bobby-but he could not extend his reach far enough. As Bobby tumbled downward he knocked into two other shoppers, and the three of them land in a heap at the bottom of the escalator. Castiel hears a few groans and the pit of his stomach turns as he sees Bobby's arm bent at an unnatural angle (this feeling was similar to seeing Sam nearly drowned at the pool, only somehow with the added unpleasantness of nausea). Cas whipped around to look at the woman who was still standing in the same spot, smirking. She grinned, toothily, her eyes flashing black a moment.

"Happy Holidays, Castiel. Don't worry, we'll be sure to get you something good this year." The woman snarls. Before Castiel can react she pushes her fingers to her lips and points at the other shoppers milling about, unaware of the pile at the bottom of the escalator. "Wouldn't want to make a scene, would we? Just remember. We know where you are and we are patient in our plans." She turned from him and strutted into the crowd.

Castiel is fuming, _I could chase her down and try to get her, maybe corner her in some access hallway? No, Bobby is injured. That is clearly the priority right now._ Castiel quickly descends the escalator, running with the moving stairs. The three shoppers are no longer in a pile, and no one seems terribly injured. The other two shoppers appear to only have a few scrapes from the fall, Bobby having landed at the bottom of the pile leading to him taking the brunt of the fall. He is alright, mostly. A security guard has helped him up and called for backup, though it is clear that Bobby needs a hospital right now.

"Bobby? Are you okay?" Castiel hovers near his friend, then realizing the stupidity of his question given the arm hanging limply at Bobby's side, "That is to say, aside from the arm?"

"Well, Cas, I said today was going to have a few injuries, but I didn't expect some bitch dressed like a rejected GAP model to shove me down an escalator. You still got everything?"

Castiel was surprised at his nonchalance at injury, though it was likely Bobby had been injured worse than this before on hunts. "Yes, I've got everything…"

"Good, now let's get me to a hospital. I could reset this myself, but I think I'll let a medical professional do it this time."

Three hours and forty-two minutes later Bobby had a cast and a sling on, but he hadn't yet left the hospital room he was seated in. Castiel watched the clock impatiently as he again re-read the same issue of Woodworking Monthly (it being the only magazine he hadn't read three times yet). He'd seen Bobby with the cast an hour ago through the window in the door as he walked back to the room followed by a doctor. Before Cas could consider much more Bobby reappeared, carrying a small bag from the pharmacy and a stack of papers. He seemed a bit off, somehow his eyes did not match the rest of his face, as if he was attempting to hide something. Castiel did not want to pry, as it seemed inappropriate, and instead drove them home in relative silence, caught in his own troubles regarding the now escalating threat of demons harming his friends.


	19. New Years

**Chapter 19: New Years**

Well, the Christmas music was finally finished. It always amused Castiel how quickly humans moved from one thing to the next. Whether it was clothing trends, music styles, or even holiday seasons-it seemed the second the current item passed the next was front and center, ready to be adored until its time was also finished. The boys had loved their Christmas gifts, excitedly generating thousands of tiny shreds of paper that still hadn't been fully cleaned up-and gotten him and Bobby some of their own.

While Bobby and Cas were out shopping Sam and Dean had managed to convince Mrs. O'Hare to take them along with Ava and Richard out shopping on Black Friday at a different mall. She had finally relented after Dean had explained the previous terrible Christmases they'd lived through before being with Cas (_one year we were on the run and ended up holed up in this tiny cabin in Minnesota-didn't even realize it was Christmas until the next week when I saw that it was January_). Dean had gotten Cas a tie (_something so you don't have to wear, like, the exact same thing all the time_), and Sam had gotten him a pile of cassette tapes? He explained that it was custom among young people to make each other 'mix tapes' and Sam-having no idea how to do so-had simply gotten Cas a stack of blank cassette tapes from Radio Shack.

"I dunno how to make a mix tape, but this way you can make one you like. You just put it in the radio, and then you can save all the songs or news or whatever." He smiled, his recently lost upper central incisors showing a gap that was almost sickeningly sweet -_and he knew it_. Sam knew the power of his puppy dog eyes, and with the small gap visible in his smile it was nearly impossible to resist the boy's charm. He managed to use this to his advantage whenever possible.

Castiel reciprocated, the warm feeling he had around the boys almost overpowering the deeper sense of unease that had amplified again after Bobby had been shoved-_face first, mind you_-down an escalator by a demon-possessed woman. Bobby also received gifts from the boys: from Dean a magnetic tray he'd gotten at The Sharper Image (_so you can hold bolts and stuff when you work on cars_), and from Sam a blank notebook with a faux leather cover (_so you can still write stuff, even if it isn't about monsters_).

Castiel smiled, thinking about the day and how the focus was now that evening. New Years Eve-the one night each year when alcohol and sleep deprivation were socially encouraged. Castiel had invited Bobby over and the two were planning on relaxing with the boys-secretly hoping this might tire the endlessly energetic duo. Bobby had been a bit odd during Christmas-Castiel sensed some unease beneath the surface. The boys seemed not to notice-being wrapped in the glory of fresh toys-but there was something off. He would have to ask Bobby about it in private later, perhaps he could help in some way.

The pills tasted terrible. It didn't matter what the doctors said, Bobby couldn't stand the taste of the damn things. All of the pill bottles had labels he could barely read, and the drugs had names no human being could pronounce on their own. _It sucks getting old_. He sighed; rubbing his head as he longingly glanced at the beer in the back of his fridge. No more of that, so might as well get rid of it. Bobby dumped the six pack down the sink. _I've got to tell Cas. Eventually…_

The boys were over at one of the neighbor's houses when Bobby pulled up front. The yard was blanketed in a thick layer of snow, glimmering and sparkling in the midday sun. The two small sets of tracks across it told a story of brothers engaged in an all-out snow war. There was still a pile of snowballs behind one of the bushes and a mound built hastily in the corner near the mailbox. It wasn't the kind of thing he'd usually notice, but Bobby had decided to try to notice more things recently. There was a surprising amount of beauty in everyday scenes that he had missed.

The thirty feet from his car to the front door felt like a chasm. He steadied himself and doubled down on his resolve, _I'm going to tell Cas. He has every right to know. I should've told him back at the hospital, but I didn't because… well, I don't know._ He inhaled deeply, a plume of steam rushing forth with the exhale shortly afterward. Castiel opened the door at the first knock-_guy has an uncanny ability to do that-_and was greeted with a guilty and tired looking Bobby. "Cas, we need to talk."

Two coffee mugs sat on the table, steaming with a fresh pour as Bobby shut his eyes and wished that for once in his goddamn life that he could have some semblance of normalcy without the universe dicking him over. _Might as well get this over with… _"I have cancer. It's stage three, almost stage four."

Castiel was silent for a moment, contemplating what to say, before he spoke, "I'm sorry… that's terrible. Is there a treatment we could try?"

Bobby sighed, "Well, no. Not really. Brain cancer isn't exactly easy to treat in the best of circumstances, and with me, it's not the best circumstance. According to the doctors I've got a malignant growth the size of a golf ball wedged in my skull. Those headaches I keep getting are the pressure from the tumor pressing against the nerves there. There's no internal bleeding or anything-which is good-but there's no real way to treat it. Surgery would be pointless; it's buried deep in my brain, so going after it would more likely kill me than help. I'm on a few drugs right now, but it's mostly to help my immune system and try to slow its progress. Even with chemotherapy they said I'm lucky to get another six to eight months."

Castiel felt the blood rush from his face and head, he felt light and incredibly heavy at the same time. This was another new emotion, it was fear mixed with anxiety and dread all together. It was the worst thing he'd ever experienced. "That's it? Six to eight months?" He was pale and in disbelief over the awful truth he'd just heard.

"Yeah. If that. That's assuming that it doesn't end up metastasized before then."

_Why is it forbidden to use healing on humans in situations like this?! _Castiel found himself genuinely frustrated with God, a frightening thought to a more rational angel. _Even if I did heal him the energy used to do so would be easily felt, and be grounds for immediate intervention from my brethren, and mean my ending here… _His hands were tied, at least at the moment, and he hated that fact. "Bobby… I, is there anything I can do?"

He sighed, his blue eyes showing the heaviness he felt. "Don't tell the boys-for now. I don't need them worrying about this-about me. I'll tell them when the time is right."

"Okay."

"Three… Two… One! Happy New Year 1989!" The television announced as Sam and Dean gallivanted around the living room holding up two bottles of soda as Bobby and Cas toasted with sparkling cider. The room was aglow with the warm light of a pleasant evening. There had been board games and snacks, a brief attempt to teach Castiel and Bobby how to play videogames (_to clarify, you can only move to the right? Why?_), some charades (_stop mouthing the words Dean!_), and even a brief snowball fight outside. It was a happy evening, one that Sam and Dean would likely remember for many years to come. _Their childhood was finally out of the claws of constant trauma, only to soon be launched back into loss_. Castiel was incensed at the turn of events, and was resolved to figure out some way to prevent his friend's death. Bobby was going to live, even if it meant going against God's will even further.


	20. Spring Break

**Chapter 20: Spring Break**

January and February passed, and when March arrived Bobby realized his body was beginning to give out on him.

As he leaned over the pink porcelain bowl in the first floor bathroom he silently cursed himself for never redoing the tacky bathroom when he had the strength, _I mean really, if I'm going to have to spend most of the rest of my life crouched over a goddamn PINK toilet… _his thoughts paused as he felt his stomach contract and tasted again acidic bile. He'd have to talk to Dr. Roberts about something for this nausea.

Two weeks later Bobby was on a course of ondansetron and the nausea and vomiting was mostly subsided. However, Dr. Roberts was alarmed by the severity of the symptoms and scheduled a follow up to check the progress of the growth, _which is great, because in doctor speak it means the fucking thing in my head is even bigger than it should be…_ Bobby was sick, he was tired, and he wanted to be back to normal. But that wasn't going to happen. So fuck it. He was going to enjoy what little life he had left.

"Cas, mind if we talk for a minute?" Bobby pulled him aside while Sam and Dean argued in the den about whose turn it was to be player one in some videogame.

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

"I know it's a bit sudden, but with everything going on I've been thinking about getting the most out of the life I've got left in me, and I wanted to know if you and the boys would be free to go on a road trip during their spring break in a few days."

Cas smiled, though the sadness in his eyes kept it from spreading too far, as he placed a hand on Bobby's shoulder (a motion he'd seen Bobby do with the boys many times), "I'm sure they'd love that."

"Thanks Cas."

Bobby and Castiel discussed the logistics of the trip and came to the conclusion that neither of their vehicles would work well for a road trip with all four of them. Bobby's truck could fit all their luggage easily, but with the single bench seat it would be impossible to fit all four of them. Cas' Camry would do fine with fitting all four passengers, but had absolutely no storage space.

"I do deeply regret not getting a hatchback model."

So the only option left was to go with the Impala. It was larger than the Camry, and was suited to long distance travel (having trekked most of the country when John had used it to hunt). There was, however, the somewhat obvious issue of the emotional baggage the nearly two-ton sedan carried. Ever since John's death the car had sat in the garage, buried beneath a sheet. It was the last physical reminder of the boys' father, and would likely stir up a mixture of emotions upon being unveiled again.

Castiel decided to 'break the news' (as he'd heard Dean say) to the boys, beginning with the non-emotionally turmoil inducing part, "Sam, Dean, I have some exciting news. Bobby and I have planned a road trip during your spring break. The four of us are going down the coast and will end our trip in Disneyland." He waited a minute as the news processed in the young boys' minds.

"We're going to Disney? That's awesome! Do you think Pluto will be there? I need to get an autograph book…" Sam happily hugged Castiel's legs as he looked up and continued to babble excitedly, "Oh, and maybe I can get Goofy's too-but not Donald, he's mean."

Dean rolled his eyes and smirked at Sammy's excitement, "Sammy, calm down. I'm sure you can get anyone's signature you want."

"I know, but it's not every day you get to meet _the _Pluto!"

Castiel held his tongue, knowing that the illusion of a costumed character was something that Sam still was young enough to believe in. "Also, for the trip Bobby and I are going to be taking the Impala. We cannot all fit in my car or his truck along with the things we'd need, so it is the logical choice." He paused as it seemed all the air had suddenly gone stale in the room as the smiles froze and faded from Sam and Dean's faces. "I know it's your father's car, and there are obviously a lot of memories tied to it-some good, some bad-" Castiel winced as he thought of some of the less happy memories he'd gotten from John regarding the car and his children, "But together the four of us are going to make good, new, memories in it together."

Dean exhaled deeply before he spoke, "Okay Cas, I… we trust you." He smiled weakly, trying to ignore the many complicated thoughts tied to the car and who it represented.

_ What do you mean 'shoot'? I MEAN SHOOT THE DAMN GUN DEAN! But, it's a police car! IKNOW THAT! NOW SHOOT!_

Sam nodded and nuzzled his face against Castiel's leg, his eyes shut tightly. His breathing was slowing down from the anxious tempo it had been, calmed both by Cas' presence and Dean's statement. It would be alright. Cas was here, and Bobby would be there too.

It was early on Monday when they left 17 Evergreen Lane in the Impala. Shortly after Castiel had gotten the vehicle he had emptied out its more... unsavory contents. Now the trunk was stuffed with four suitcases and enough chips and snack-cakes to last the four their week trip down the coast. The Oregon air was chilly, but by mid-week the weather should be nicer, given the descent in latitude.

Dean was wearing a sweatshirt over an ACDC t-shirt, while Sam had on a button-down jacket over a blue flannel. Both were excited for the warmer weather down south, and had made sure to pack shorts and swim trunks-despite Cas warning it was unlikely they'd have a chance to swim. Cas had ditched the usual trench-coat (well, usual for this time of year-he'd long since learned to only wear it during cool weather after some odd looks at the grocery store in early summer) in favor of a zip-up sweater from L.L. Bean (despite Dean's claims that it made him look like a '_whiter than cheesecake Cosby knockoff'_). Bobby was the only one heavily bundled, wearing a thick wool coat and heavy jeans. Castiel surmised it was due to his condition causing a weakened ability to regulate his body temperature, and hoped the boys wouldn't notice the small detail.

The trip took them along the coast and the foursome enjoyed the redwood forests as they descended. The first two days had stops at local tourist attractions: houses of mystery, a massive ball of twine, a tree the car could drive through, and the like. Sam loved the cheesy attractions unironically, and Dean enjoyed the sheer audacity of some of the places. One in particular, a run-down 'Mystery Shack' seemed too terrible to resist his constant mockery. The fake monsters and overpriced knick-knacks were so terrible Bobby, and eventually even Cas, began riffing on the atmosphere.

"So, what's this one? A 'beavercorn'? Half beaver and half unicorn…" Dean barely contained himself.

"Well I've heard of some crazy supernatural nonsense, but you'd have to be a total idjit to believe this."

"How would it manage to swim? It's horn would weigh it down so much it would drown?" Castiel looked at the wooden horn superglued to the taxidermized beaver's head.

At the end of it the experience was so terribly cheesy that Dean insisted on getting a t-shirt to commemorate the occasion. Castiel agreed, and all four left wearing overpriced shirts laughing about the nonsense they'd just experienced.

Wednesday they arrived in Anaheim. The night before the family had slept in a moderately priced hotel outside of Burbank, and Sam could barely contain himself. Dean was also excited, sort of. This normal kid stuff was pretty great. _Dad'd never take us to Disney-he'd say it was a waste of time and money_. But it was still kind of weird sleeping in a hotel that was actually nice and not having to salt the doors and windows or worry about waking up in the middle of the night to flee the police. Even the Impala was somehow more comfortable. It was no longer a mobile military installation, but just an old family car. It was weird, but kind of nice.

The parking lot was full (how else would it be?), but the walk wasn't too long from the car. After paying for a day pass-and declining the season tickets for a fifth time-they entered the park. There's a reason Disney is called the 'happiest place on earth' . For some unknown reason-Dean believed some enchantment or magic-the park seemed incapable of harboring ill-will. Everyone was smiling, the weather was a beautiful sunny day, and even with the crowds it didn't seem too full.

It was a gorgeous day. A day that was so perfect and pristine Sam and Dean had to stop to make sure it was in fact happening to _them_ multiple times. Cas was taking endless Polaroids as they rode ride after ride. Sammy got every character's signature (even Donald-_he isn't so grumpy in person_…), and Dean managed to eat his weight in Dole Whip (_Holy shit, this stuff is almost as good as pie!_). Even Sammy throwing up on Space Mountain was a good memory-he didn't get anyone and because he got sick the operator gave them free shirts to cheer them up! Dean was happy-actually 100% happy. Normally even when he was happy there was some nagging feeling of doubt or dread, but right now he was just another ten-year old kid on vacation with his family.

That evening back at the motel Bobby pulled out the leather notebook Sam had given him a few months prior. He'd never been much for keeping a journal, but given the circumstances it made enough sense now. Sam and Dean were busy watching something on the tv and Cas was working on a late dinner for the group. He should have enough privacy to write now:

March 22nd, 1989

It's a Wednesday today. Easter's in a few days and Cas and I decided to take the boys on a road trip. Well, I suggested it-Cas agreed. Haven't thrown up yet today, but the little white ones and the red and green ones are still fighting each other. Doc said that, plus the thing in my head is what caused the nausea. We've stopped at a few different spots, mostly tourist places, and today's no different. Disneyland is better than I thought it would be. Though, I suppose that might be because I'm with the three people on this planet who don't make me feel like I've been stuck on 'It's a Small World' for a few hours. They're still idjits-who else would be gullible enough to buy t-shirts in the gift shop there-but they're also the biggest thing I have left to live for.

Roberts says I've got about three months left-the tumor's getting bigger and starting to put pressure on all sorts of fun things. Right now it's mainly just my balance and some nausea, but if it continues it'll end up with me not being able to do much of anything except wait for death. I know I need to tell them, but I don't know what to say-Hey Sam and Dean, guess what, I'm going to die before the end of the year?-at this point I'm not even angry any more, just mostly wishing I could be around for these boys.

Bobby closed the notebook and put it in his bag, he sighed as he walked over to join the boys at the tv and catch the end of 'Indiana Jones'.


	21. The Barbecue

**Chapter 21: The Barbecue**

School let out the first week of June (earlier than usual due to the lack of snow-days) and Sam and Dean were back to their summer routine. A parade of the usual friends and acquaintances marched through the house, with a litany of videogames, craft projects, action figures, and pyrotechnics (_Dean! How on earth did you get a hold of an M-80?!_) marking the first few days of summer.

The first Saturday of June had Bobby coming over for the beginning of the string of many barbecues the family would host. Cas and Bobby sat out back by the barbecue, the boys were inside. Sam and Dean were mostly occupied with a game of Jenga-which had become a quick fad in the Winchester household. At the moment the current total was 126 games to Dean and 103 to Sam, with Castiel winning 4 of the 96 he participated in (_the degree of manual dexterity required to win this game is staggering_). Dean was just happy to use the opportunity to show his mostly normalized fine motor skills (courtesy of two years of physical therapy at school).

It was a perfect afternoon; the sun was high in the sky as the midday light filtered through a few small clouds. The air was calm, but not close. There was the faint tweeting of birds and hum of a lawnmower a few doors down, somewhere a dog barked happily. It was a suburban summer Saturday. If not for the health of the men enjoying the day it might have been something out of a sitcom instead of a drama.

"So…" Cas looked down at the grill as he basted the ribs. He was unsure of what to say. It was evident that Bobby's health had continued to decline, _and I can't stop it because of a bunch of my brethren are too stubbornly attached to some 'prophesy' and would immediately swoop in and end me if I did anything…_

"So…" Bobby repeated, looking down at his soda. He exhaled; _fuck it_, "Cas. I'm going to die soon. I'm not going to pretend there's a miracle cure just sitting in front of me I haven't thought of." Castiel winced internally, the guilt he'd been carrying suddenly somehow even greater, "But since I'm going to die, I don't want to die without knowing a few things first. I already know more about the supernatural than most hunters out there combined-but that isn't saying much considering how many of the idjits are more interested in revenge than research. But what I don't know is anything about your brother. John's reveals to me could fit on an index card. Single sided. Could ya tell me a bit about him, at least something, so when I get to whatever fucked up afterlife there is I can yell at him for not telling me anything?"

Castiel smiled, not overly happy that Bobby had insulted his home as 'fucked up', but glad that his friend trusted him to talk about the sensitive issue that was his 'younger brother'. "Alright, where do you want me to begin?"

Cas and Bobby talk for nearly two hours in the backyard on everything from John's first crush and favorite color to his deepest fears and desires. Cas was candid, accessing John's memories and saying things as honestly as he could to Bobby. It seemed therapeutic in a way for him; finally getting some sense of closure on a man he'd known for years and somehow knew nothing about.

"You know, you're the only friend John ever had."

"I doubt that. He might have been a stubborn ass, but he was good looking and-if I remember correctly-the captain of his high school's track team." Bobby rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious Bobby. John was popular, sure, but he didn't really have friends. It was high school. He stayed in his little 'middle-of-nowhere' Kansas town while everyone else moved on and out. If it wasn't for Mary he wouldn't have had anyone. When she died he really had no one except the boys. When he met you he didn't care about you, much like everyone else, but I know he wouldn't have continued beyond that first interaction if he didn't care. I read his journal and I want to tell you he speaks highly of you multiple times-and considering that he never even mentions me-his brother-it indicates he did appreciate what you did for him." Cas felt guilty about the slight manipulation in this truth, he knew Bobby was John's only friend because of a memory-not the journal-but the intent was the same.

"Well, a lot of good it did him in the long run. Friends are just another casualty waiting to happen for hunters." Bobby muttered sadly, thinking how John was just one of the many hunters he'd known who had died over the years.

"Maybe for hunters, but for me, you are the best thing that has happened since this series of unfortunate occurrences began. Bobby, I value your friendship and I thank you for all you have done." Castiel smiled, tilting his head slightly to match Bobby's gaze. "You truly are a '_radical dude_'."

Bobby chuckled at Cas' attempt at slang and sentimentality, "Thank you Cas. So are you."

_Bobby better know how the hell to take care of a zombie because that witch doctor seems to be surrounded by the bastards every time I try to get close._ John Winchester picked up the phone in the crappy motel in New Orleans. Dean was giving Sam a bath, or something, and he had to get some advice.

_Bobby, I need some advice on zombies._ John muttered over the phone, impatiently tapping his pen on a blank journal page.

_Okay, what type are we talking? Romero or voodoo?_

_Voodoo._

_Well, that's going to be tough. You have a notebook ready because this is going to be a lot of steps…_

_Well, shit. He wasn't kidding. Sixteen steps to create a purification powder he would have to sprinkle on the zombies-on a full moon-which may OR MAY NOT work._

_So, how are the boys? _Bobby sounded hopeful over the phone.

_Fine. _

_Okay, so, how about more than one syllable._

_Look, I'll just put Dean on. Just don't fill his head with bullshit about ever being normal Bobby. _

John gave Dean the phone and sat down on the faded plaid couch. _Bobby was a royal pain in the ass, but he is the closest thing I've got to a friend._

A knock on the side gate alerted the two to the presence of a gaggle of neighborhood children who were coming over to play with Sam and Dean. It was the usual crowd. Ava, Carol, Sam Kennedy, Max, and Zach were all familiar, but there was one boy Castiel did not recognize.

"Hello, I don't believe we've met. I'm Mr. Winchester." Cas knelt down to the boy's eye level. He was Dean's age, and was wearing a dark navy t-shirt and jeans, surprising given the warm weather.

"I'm Gus."

"Nice to meet you Gus."

"Yeah. You too." The boy was indifferent, and something about the tone he used seemed off-almost forced.

Castiel brushed it off and stood up. While he was certainly much better than he had been at first with reading emotions he did occasionally falter, and it was possible he'd seen something when there wasn't anything to see. He went inside to get Sam and Dean and found Sam on top of a step ladder as Dean angrily wished the tower of Jenga blocks would topple over.

"Okay Dean, your turn." He happily smirked, knowing it would be nearly impossible for Dean to remove a piece without the tower toppling over. Dean scowled, before stepping on the ladder to grab a block. Before he could manage the vibrations from his stepping on the ladder causing the slightest of shifts and the entire pile collapsed to the floor.

"Boys, it appears as though you have a few guests. I'm going to get a few snacks ready, if you want to meet them in the dining room." Castiel walked out of the living room before he heard Dean flip open a notebook and mutter something about _stupid vibrations_.

A few minutes later seven children were sat around the dining room table. A large assortment of snack foods sat on the tabletop as the group happily chatted while eating far more sugar and calories than recommended for the average child. Outside, however, one child was sitting alone. Gus had opted to eat in the back corner of the yard beneath the shade of a small tree. He hadn't set foot in the house, opting instead to have Castiel bring him a platter. There was something off about the boy.

"Sam, Dean, why don't you show your friends the new Bomberman videogame you got? I'm sure they'd like it." Castiel suggested while bringing out a pitcher of Tang.

"You got the new Bomberman? The one with two player?" Max looked up from a pile of Oreos he'd licked the icing off of.

"Yeah, and so far I'm undefeated." Dean rubbed his knuckle on his shirt as a show of strength, and also as a slight towards Sam having beaten him earlier at Jenga.

"Well, I think that streak may end today." Ava smiled, her eyes bright with a competitive spark.

Dean smiled, _God is she cute when she's like this_, "Tell you what, I'll play all challengers, and prove to you I'm the best."

"You're on!"

Suddenly after a scuffing of chairs on the floor and the sound of snack food packages being grabbed, Castiel found himself alone in the room, and the boys and their friends holed up in the den.

"Alright, odds are 10:1 Dean wins against Max, place your bets here!" Sam pulled out a notebook and crayon as Max shut the door and Zach grabbed another mouthful of chips from the bowl on the table.

_Okay, now I just need to get Bobby out of the yard so I can have a quick chat with Gus…_

Back outside Bobby was reclining on a lawnchair next to the grill. Behind him on the picnic table sat a stack of burger buns (for the hamburgers they would put on when the ribs were nearly done), as well as a number of condiments. Cas picked up a soda, and after opening the can 'accidentally' tripped and spilled the brown carbonated soft drink all over the buns.

"Dang it!" Castiel said, hoping his lie would be believable, "Bobby I tripped and spilled soda all over the buns…"

Bobby turned around to see Cas holding an empty soda can and a pile of soggy buns. "It's alright. I'll run to the store to get some more. You got them last time."

"Are you positive? I could go if you would watch the kids…"

Bobby thought back to Halloween-_I love the boys but that many kids at once is too much_, "No, I'll go. Give me a chance to stretch my legs anyway."

After checking again that the other kids were busy-and had the curtain facing the backyard drawn-Cas decided it was time to confront Gus. The small boy was sitting in the corner under the same tree, looking smug about something as he reclined. Cas walked over to the corner and was about to speak when he met Cas' gaze and flashed black eyes momentarily.

"Before you begin, I might remind you that any action you take here will surely be observed by your superiors." The boy shielded his eyes as he stood up, dusting off his jeans from the grass he'd been sitting on.

"They wouldn't mind a demon meeting its end. I might even get a commendation for ending your miserable existence." Castiel knew it was a lie, but it was unlikely the demon knew how the angels felt.

"Look, I'll give you credit. You're the only one so far who has figured it out. But think of it this way. If you suddenly waste your son's best friend there's going to be questions as to what's going on. That is, if anyone will believe you. Dean knows what demons are like. And, if I may say so, I'm a pretty good actor, he thinks I'm human. Imagine what it'll do to him if he finds out you did anything to me. So, how about we make a little deal and we both get to go along on our ways…" The child's voice was suddenly deeper than it should be as a wry grin revealed a set of sharp teeth above the regular set.

Castiel took a step back, shocked, "Your vessel is a child _vampire_?"

"Well, recently turned vampire." He smirked as a cheerful tone belied the sinister truth, "Yeah, I needed some minions and I found a few of the bloodsuckers who were willing to do my bidding. After we finished up I had one of them scrounge me up a kid to use as my vessel-that was fun. You ever see a child react to their parents total evisceration right in front of them? It's delightful. Anyway, little Billy Daugherty here was bit by one of my underlings during the tussle, and I figured, why not use him? Little supernatural freak could come in handy."

Castiel was visibly horrified and enraged, "You are despicable."

"I know, isn't it great? Now, about that deal…" He snapped his fingers and a piece of paper materialized in his hand.

"I would never deal with your kind, even if I could."

"Oh, but this wouldn't be for your soul-not that you have one, you flying freakshow. This is for Dean's."

"Why would I ever do that?"

"Because if you don't, then we fight and blah, blah, blah, one of us ends up defeated. Regardless of who, the next demon in line comes right after me. Then the one after him, it's just one after the next. It's going to be constant. And eventually you'll be too late to figure it out and Sam and Dean will be turned toward their destiny."

"I know them, and nothing will cause that. No deal."

The boy scowled, enraged, "Let me say it again. Take the deal. No one refuses me, Castiel. I am the motherfucking king of the crossroads. You have no idea my power. Take the deal or I will end your pasty angel ass."

A brief scuffle ensued when Castiel again refused. Gus began by using his abilities to launch Castiel into the fence behind them and toss barbecue skewers towards him, as well as a handful of decorative pavers. Castiel managed to avoid any serious injury (though a paver to the gut certainly stings) and managed to break free of the demon's grasp. He took the boy off guard by teleporting directly behind him and grabbing him from behind. The struggling child continued to fight as Cas quickly searched for a lock-disgusted that he had to do so-and found one on the boy's upper left arm. He quickly nicked the mark and banished the demon, leaving a very scared child left over.

"Billy, are you okay?" Cas set the boy down and stooped to his level. His eyes were wide and he seemed in a great deal of distress.

"Thank you… Mr. Winchester." He nearly shook as he spoke.

"Can you remember anything?" Cas reached to place a hand on the boy's shoulder to try to calm him, but before he could the boy took a quick step back.

"Yes… he made me see everything." He immediately broke into tears as he tucked his head between his knees.

The boy's sobbing was terrible. Being around Dean and Sam had given Castiel many more emotions that he thought were possible, and in this moment it seemed he was flooded with more than he knew how to handle. He was anxious, over having again gone against the plan and banished a demon. He was upset over the boy's clear emotional and mental abuse at the hands of a demon for so many months. He was nervous over how to handle the child's state. And finally he was heartbroken, knowing that another child had gone through such great loss because of some 'perfect plan'.

"Billy, do you have any aunts or uncles, or any other relatives at all who might be able to take care of you?" Castiel thought, perhaps, the child could be given a chance at normalcy through the same process Sam and Dean and arrived with him.

"No… My mom and dad were only kids, and I don't have any grandparents 'cept my nana, but she's got dementia and lives in a special house we can't let her leave." He shook his head, still clearly traumatized by the past few months of demon possession.

_Of course it couldn't be that easy…_ "Alright Billy, I'm going to do something for you, but I need you to trust me or it won't work. I'm going to help take away those bad memories, okay?" Cas smiled, hopeful the boy would be willing.

His eyed nervously met Cas', "How?"

"I'm just going to put my finger on your head and they'll all go away. I promise it won't hurt."

"Okay…"

Erasing the memories of a person is normally an easy task for an angel. However, selectively editing memories-including implanting false memories to explain the current situation without causing trauma for a young child-is much more challenging. While it only took a few seconds to the outside world Castiel had to relive the boy's life multiple times to change all he had to. He kept most of the last few months, editing out the demonic torture sessions and random acts of self harm, but before that it was difficult. Eventually the transformation from Billy Daugherty-whose life pre-demon still consisted of consistent child abuse and neglect-to Gus McCloud was complete and Castiel released the boy from his touch.

"Gus, do you want to head in to meet the others? I'm sure they'd love to see if you can beat Dean at Bomberman." Castiel hoped his intervention had succeeded.

"Okay! Where's the tv room?" He happily replied, thankfully ignorant of the last few minutes.

"It's in the back off the dining room."

As the boy ran inside Castiel thought to himself what he was going to do long-term. Erasing and tampering with his memories was to protect the child, but the guilt of tampering with memories was still present. The solution was short term, _once it was realized that there were no adults with him it would end poorly… How would he manage to solve that?_

Before he could contemplate much more Bobby arrived again, with a few packs of buns. "I'm back. Anything happen while I was gone?"

"Not much. I just convinced Gus to go inside with the other children." Castiel internally winced at the thought of now having another lie to maintain as he would have to figure out how to deal with the third child's life now in his control.

"Good to see him finally go in. Kid looked like he was on the verge of a pretty nasty sunburn being out here for so long." Bobby lifted the grill lid, "Looks like we can add the burgers in a minute if you want to tell the boys and their pack of friends meat'll be ready soon."

"Sure thing." Castiel walked inside before opening a cabinet and pulling out a large bottle of vodka. While the clear liquid had little effect on his body-thanks to his supernatural metabolism-the entire bottle should be enough to help calm him down enough to think rationally about everything going on and come up with some plan to deal with Gus.


	22. Summertime Sadness

**Chapter 22: Summertime Sadness**

Castiel was panicking. Well, as close to panicking as he could be-and that was relatively close given all the new-found stress that had entered his life. On top of keeping Sam and Dean safe from demonic _and_ angelic influences (and making sure they were unaware of this process) and his internal guilt and self-loathing over not being able to do anything to help Bobby, he now had a second ten-year old boy to watch after. Only with Gus he had to make it seem as if he wasn't looking after him.

With Gus being removed from the grasp of a demon (and a pompous one at that) and most of his memories either erased or modified it was a tricky situation, _even if the boy was a vampire he deserved to have happiness-he hadn't chosen to be a monster, after all._ Dean was close friends with Gus, and Cas could secure sleepovers at least three times a week at their house, he could usually get Dean and Gus to have 'play dates' and sleepovers other nights, so the young boy was never unsupervised. According to school records Gus was living in an apartment on the south side of North Plains-above a music store on the main street. The apartment was entirely empty aside from quite a few torture implements arranged in a side room and some concerning bottles of red liquid. There was no way Gus could return to this.

_But if he can't return to it, where on earth is he going to go? I can't keep scheduling sleepovers and social events to keep him busy, eventually either he or some other parent will catch on._ Castiel was now experiencing another new emotion on top of panic, frustration. It was hot and made his head ache, not unlike anger, only with this he also somehow felt as if he was powerless despite his immense supernatural abilities.

Castiel's prediction was correct. Marge Russell was a clever woman. She prided herself on this, as well as her ability to never burn anything in the kitchen. She loved crosswords and could solve a Rubik's cube in less than two minutes, and she was pending a membership to MENSA (she had the score, but there was some other delay, as usual with any social club). So when Gus McCloud was over at her house again (the fourth time in two weeks), she was a bit suspicious.

"Max, I think Roscoe needs to be let out. Would you mind making sure he goes? Last time your father simply put him out and didn't check and I ended up with a surprise in the dining room…"

"Okay Mom. I'll take him out. Back in a sec." Max opened the back door to the house and led Roscoe, the family's German Shepherd, through.

Gus was sitting at the breakfast counter and munching on some celery sticks with peanut butter. _Now that I think of it, I think this outfit looks familiar as well-didn't he wear this two days ago when he was here?_ "So Gus, does your family have any plans for a vacation this summer?" _An easy enough question, nothing out of the ordinary… Though, I don't think I've ever heard him mention any family._

Gus' mind reeled for a moment. He had no memories of his family. Honestly, he could remember school and playing with friends, but aside from that there was nothing else. He knew his address, and he knew his parent's names-he'd written about them for school-but there was no faces, no voices, nothing at all. The blank look on his face was one of equal parts horror and confusion, _I have no idea what my family is like, but then how can I remember everything else?!_

"Gus, are you alright?"

"I think I need to go home. Can you give me a ride?"

"Sure, what's your address?"

The empty apartment was not a good sign. Neither was the fact that no one had seen anyone come from or leave the place in nearly a month. There was an explanation, but it was almost too terrible for Marge to consider.

"Gus, where are your parents?"

"I don't know."

The police report said 'abandoned' but Gus felt a lot more like worthless. His parents-whoever they were-had taken everything and left him here, alone. _What did I do? Why did they leave me? _

Marge had called the other parents, and soon half the town knew about Gus' fate. Castiel had somewhat anticipated the call, but its happening was still something he could not prepare himself for. _Why do there have to be so many different types of PAIN?!_ This was heartbreak; he had felt it before when Sam had asked if his father had died because of him at Easter. Even knowing the emotion, though, did nothing to settle the sudden sting it left. Suddenly a thought entered his mind, _you need to protect this child_, and it flitted away before he could identify its source.

_What was that? I didn't think that. Where did it come from?_ It was an impulse: a logic defying little spark of an idea that entered and faded, but left a massive impact. It was terrifying. Even with emotions, logic was at the core of Castiel's being. He had to act rationally to keep the others from intervening and turning the boys against each other, or worse… But this thought, it made no rational sense. Yes, what happened to Gus was a tragedy, but how would he possibly keep him safe?_ The same way you keep Sam and Dean safe._

No. It made no sense. There was a foster care system and Gus would be sure to get the help he needs. _You made him like this. It is your responsibility to make sure he is safe._ "FINE!" He shouted, realizing it was aloud when he saw Dean look up from his copy of "Fear Street", a confused look on his face.

Castiel sighed. "Dean, we're going to the police station, get your brother and meet me outside in a few minutes."

Dean had been in quite a few police stations in his life-many more than the average ten-year old-and they were far less intimidating when you weren't in trouble. North Plains Police Department was a squat stone building (well, stone veneer) with a small lawn and a large American flag flying on a tall pole out front. Inside was a small reception area with a woman at the desk and a few magazines older than him. Cas had told him that they were going to the police to talk about Gus. _Apparently Gus'-what is the appropriate curse here? Oh, yes-fucking bastard-ass dipshit parents had decided to leave him. _Cas was at the counter talking with the woman, whose name was probably Linda given the nameplate next to her computer, but he couldn't hear anything because they were barely whispering and halfway across the room-_I really need to learn how to read lips._

"Sam, Dean, I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't worry, you're not in trouble. I'm just going to talk with some people for a little bit." Cas spoke briefly, nodding to get their attention. Dean nodded back, confirming he had been paying attention, and Sam also bobbled his head-heavy from the siren song of sleep.

"Dean, what's Cas doing here? Why are we at the police station? None of us did anything wrong." Sam looked up, rubbing his eyes tiredly, having grown used to going to bed well before ten o'clock.

"Cas is here to talk to some people about Gus…" Dean hesitated, unsure of what to say next-_how do you break it to a six year old that people just sometimes abandon their kids?_

"Did Gus do something wrong?" Sam frowned, knowing what it was like to spend the night in a jail cell-he shivered at the unpleasant memory dredged from the deep corners of his mind.

"No." Dean gritted his teeth, "His parents did."

"What'd they do?"

"They left him. They took everything and left him."

"Like when Dad was hunting?"

"No, his parents left and aren't coming back."

Sam looked down at his shoes for a moment before Dean heard a sniffle and saw Sam rubbing his palm across his eyes. "Dean, what are they going to do to him?"

Dean sighed, placing a hand on Sam's back and leaning his brother against his side, "I don't know, but Cas is trying something."

"…which is why I feel I am qualified." Castiel cleared his throat as he folded his hands, a nervous tick he had picked up from Sam and had unfortunately begun to adopt when the newfound-mostly unwelcome-anxiety pushed its way to the front of his roiling mass of emotions.

"Well, you do have all the clearances necessary, and given your current situation it is evident that you are a competent guardian…" The police officer was reading the large binder Castiel had handed her-something he'd prepared in advance in case anyone had questioned his fitness as a guardian. He'd never thought he would use the binder in this manner. She raised an eyebrow, likely the page of his academic transcript (a total fabrication, but one thoroughly supported by all sources listed thanks to his brethren in their preparation)-it was not a normal occurrence to have a valedictorian from a Oregon State give up a lucrative career to become a realtor and settle down to raise his two nephews. "Give me a moment to talk to my superior." She excused herself, and was rejoined with another officer as well as a woman wearing a black pantsuit with modest shoulder-pads.

"Mr. Winchester I have shown your file to my superior, Chief Bronson," He nodded, "as well as Ms. Davis-from Child Protective Services." She nodded, curtly. "We have discussed the situation and have decided to release Gus McCloud into your care temporarily as a short-term foster child. You will be regularly checked upon-as you were initially with Sam and Dean Winchester, your nephews, and if things are satisfactory we will allow you to become a long-term foster parent for Gus, provided no adoption opportunities appear before that point. We will need you to fill out some paperwork, then we will release Gus for the next six months as a short-term foster child in your care."

"Thank you." Castiel smiled, _Good job._ Maybe this whole impulse thing wasn't entirely bad.

Gus was an absolute mess when he came out of the office. He had the exact same expression as Sam and Dean the first time they'd met Castiel. He'd lost everything. Before he could say a word Cas knelt down and embraced the boy, hugging him tightly and gently rubbing his back. If it worked with his boys it made sense to work with this child as well. Gus began sobbing, his frame shaking as he completely let himself melt into Cas' grasp and become nothing more than a sad formless mass.

"Gus, I promise you I'm going to help you. I will never abandon you. You are part of our family now, and we will make sure you are safe and loved." Cas released his grasp as he took a small step back. "Let's get you cleaned up and then you and Dean can 'hang out' for a bit before bed, okay?"

Gus nodded, still unable to speak, and unsure why his friend's uncle had decided to take care of him.

The car ride was a quiet one back, as was the trek up the stairs. Gus had nothing but the clothes on his back, so Dean lent him a pair of pajamas for the night and let him sleep in the top bunk. "Gus, I know what happened. Cas told me. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry I don't know how to show it. Having your parents die sucks, I still miss my mom and dad all the time, and I can't imagine what it's like to have them just ditch you…" He paused, exhaling and looking up at the top bunk where a quiet and very sad boy was lying, "But Cas is a good guy. He'll take care of you, and we'll make sure you're okay. As far as I'm concerned you're an honorary Winchester now, so get ready for that." Dean smiled sadly, thinking of how his name might be cursed, given how it seemed to screw with everyone around them, "Look, I know you probably don't want to talk and get all chick-flick, or whatever, but I'm here and so is Sammy and Cas. So, like, yeah…" All was still for a minute, the late evening darkness filtering through the window into the bedroom, bring a cool quiet to the room.

"Thanks Dean." Came a soft reply, barely choked out under a silent sob.

The next morning Castiel was out of bed and in the kitchen much earlier than usual. It was slightly after six, and he knew Bobby would be awake, but that the boys would still be in bed for at least another hour. He quickly punched in the seven digits and listened as the phone dialed, then rang twice before Bobby picked up. "Hello Bobby. It's Cas. I'm sorry I'm calling so early, but I have to share some news."

"It's not that early. You know with everything going on its hard for me to sleep most of the time. I've been up for almost two hours already. So, what's going on?"

"It's about Gus-Dean's friend who was over during the barbecue. His parents abandoned him, the police found nothing but a completely empty apartment." Cas felt a stab of guilt over lying to his friend, and another for having lied to Gus and put him in this situation (_well, the demon put him in the situation, I just got him to the current state_).

"Cas, excuse me one moment…" Bobby was barely containing what Castiel imagined was rage as he heard a muffled string of expletives shouted in the background of the phone connection before Bobby again picked up the receiver at his house. "I know you don't like when people curse around you but those goddamn fucking idjits are at the top of my list of people whose ass I intend to kick if ever given the chance." Bobby's words were full of venom, a deep hatred over how anyone could mistreat a child in such a manner. While Bobby had never had children of his own he had always been fiercely protective of children in general, believing that they shouldn't have to live lives as messed up as his. "So, what's happening to him?"

"Well, right now he's with us." Castiel sighed, quietly unsure of how to take care of a third child, but convinced it was his duty-given everything that had transpired, "I convinced the police to give me guardianship as a temporary foster parent."

Bobby sighed and almost chuckled, "Cas you really are a guardian angel. I swear, if I didn't know better I'd think you stepped right out of upstairs and made it your calling to help kids." He mused, unnervingly accurately for Castiel's comfort.

Cas quickly decided to change the subject, fearing Bobby's perceptive abilities realizing that he was in fact a guardian angel for the boys, "Well, if I was from Heaven I'm fairly confident I'd be able to at least figure out what's going on with my car. It barely starts and seems to misfire often enough for Sam and Dean to guess how many times it'll do so on a trip. So far the record is fifteen…"

"Sounds like the spark plugs. I'll be over in a bit to take a look at them."

"Bobby. No. I don't want you to do that. You shouldn't be exerting yourself too much, given what's going on…"

"Cas, what's going on is that I'm going to die soon and if I want to spend an hour of my remaining life working on my friend's car I'm going to do it."

_I nearly forgot how adamant he was,_ "Alright. But can you come over in the afternoon, I need to take the boys out shopping to get a few things for Gus."

"I'll be over at one."

The excursion to the mall and grocery store to get the necessary belongings and clothing for Gus was completed relatively quickly. Gus was understandably withdrawn, but being out in public seemed to help him a bit-he knew most of the people in town (as everyone did in North Plains)-and everyone was sure to be kind to the boy and help him as he needed. Sam and Dean were also supporting their new housemate, and attempting to include him in the usual brother bickering-which did aid somewhat in distracting the boy from his sallow appearance. The car was packed with clothes, toiletries, and a few other personal affects and toys for Gus as the small quartet headed back to Evergreen Lane.

Castiel helped unload everything and began washing the clothes, and Sam and Dean had taken to playing Monopoly with Gus-finally glad to have a third player (Cas normally lost within the first hour, never managing to understand all the intricate house rules the boys invented). After lunch Bobby arrived.

"So, here it is." Castiel lifted the hood on the beige 1983 Toyota Camry and revealed the transverse mounted two-liter four cylinder Japanese built engine. It was clean, which was expected with a car just outside of warranty, but Bobby noted there appeared to be some corrosion at the base of the sparkplugs.

"Looks like the sparkplugs. I'll get them pulled and cleaned and we can test if that did anything. If not it's a list of different options to guess from."

"Again, you don't have to do this…"

"Cas, I'm doing this. I've never turned down a job before-not even that nightmare of an Edsel."

"Alright. I'll stay out of your way for now, there are some drinks in the fridge in the garage if you want one." Castiel pointed at the white box sitting in the corner, adjacent to a pile of cardboard boxes and the lawnmower.

"Sounds great. I'll definitely grab one."

Bobby did. He had to avoid the obvious temptation of the beer on the first shelf (though, it being Miller Lite, the temptation wasn't too strong) and instead grab a soda from the middle of the fridge. As he cracked it open he turned around to see Gus staring at him.

Bobby was flustered, "Oh, hi Gus."

"Hi Mr. Singer. What 'cha doing to the car?"

"You don't have to call me Mr. Singer, Gus, you can call me Bobby." Bobby didn't care much for formality, and besides, if he was living with Sam and Dean it would end up as Bobby soon enough. "I'm cleaning the sparkplugs."

"How do you do that?" Gus leaned over to look in the car, having no idea what a sparkplug even looked like, let alone did.

"Well, let me show you…"

Bobby spent the next hour showing Gus how to disconnect the battery, unhook the spark plug lines, use the socket to get them out, clean them with a wire brush, check the gap (_see, this one's a bit too wide so we want to gently push the tab in a bit_), then reconnect everything. Bobby had shown Sam and Dean things before with cars, and it was evident that while Gus didn't care about cars, the boy seemed to like just being around him. They mostly chatted about meaningless things-television, books, school-but it was never awkward. Gus seemed almost happy, if not for the raincloud hovering above him.

Over the next few days Bobby's visits continued, with him spending considerable amounts of time with Gus, who is fascinated with Bobby's seemingly endless knowledge of useless facts and trivia (_thank God I actually remember something from all those encyclopedia sets I had before the hunting began_).

"Bobby, Dean told me you know a lot about monsters. He said you used to hunt them."

Bobby's brow shot upward in surprise for a moment before it settled in a glare, _Dean you are in for it boy…_

"Don't get mad at Dean. It was an accident that I found out-Sam told me what happened to their dad and I didn't believe that werewolves were real, but Dean showed me this book that he said was yours and that you knew a lot about monsters, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." Gus quickly finished talking and looked down, upset at himself for getting Bobby mad.

Bobby sighed, "Yes, they're real, and while Dean should've kept his mouth shut and his hands off my stuff-_that boy really can be an idjit sometimes_-I suppose it makes sense to tell you the truth. Hell, this family seems to have a beacon on it for the supernatural, given how John always attracted the damn things without trying. Might as well get it over with, ask away. Any question's fair game, except for the afterlife-even I don't know that."

"So, are ghosts real?"

June 28th was the first time Bobby collapsed. He wasn't in any danger, thankfully, but losing balance and sight for a moment and ending up face-first in Cas' ficus was not a good sign. According to Dr. Roberts these brief blackouts and collapses were the final signal. It was the sign that Bobby was not only on Death's door, but also ringing the doorbell and yelling to be let in.

Dean was coming down from upstairs when he heard the crash and saw Bobby lying on the ground, the artificial tree under him. Cas was running over to him and had knelt down to help him up.

"Bobby, are you alright?" Cas had his arm around Bobby and was helping him back to his feet.

"No. It's time."Bobby looked over at Dean, who was standing in the doorway, quietly processing what had happened.

"Dean, get Sam and Gus. We need to talk to all of you."

A clock chimed six as the three boys sat alongside each other on the living room couch. Bobby had slid the armchair over in front of them, and Cas had drug in a chair from the dining room to sit on, also facing the boys.

"Boys, I'm dying. It's going to be soon, if what just happened was any indication. I have brain cancer, to be blunt I probably could go any time now-losing my sight and balance is what made me fall, and that's one of the last things to happen before I go into a coma and then end up in whatever passes for an afterlife." Bobby folded his hands and sighed, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, I had Cas swear to keep it from you until I said so because I didn't want you to focus on my death. You're young; you don't need to worry about my life. You have your own lives to live."

The room was silent a minute before Dean responded, his eyes and face both reddening, "What the FUCK is wrong with you?! You're about to die and you're more concerned with hurting my feelings than telling me the truth?" He is livid, he turns away from the others and looks into the kitchen, refusing to look into their eyes. His own already beginning to stream tears.

Sam also is quiet and teary-eyed. But instead of speaking he simply pulls his legs up and makes himself into a small ball sitting on the living room sofa. _No. No. No. No. I don't want Bobby to die. Mom and Dad are already dead. I don't wanna lose Bobby too. God, if you're there it's me, Sam. Please don't let Bobby die… he doesn't deserve it. Bobby's a good guy, and he goes to church sometimes, and he's funny, and he's nice, and…_ Sam started sobbing as he shut his eyes tightly and pushed his head against his knees.

Gus was silent. He felt numb. He barely knew Bobby but he was almost a friend already. He didn't want him to die, but he didn't have the same kind of connection as Sam or Dean had with him, so it wouldn't be right to talk…

Dean turned back from the kitchen, eyes still wet and angrily looks up at the ceiling, "So the big guy decides that not only should I lose both my parents, but also my uncle? I mean, what the hell?! You're supposed to be the good guys, this doesn't feel like good!"

Castiel bristled, _all things have to happen for God's will… remember what would happen if you intervene…_

"Dean, did you just call me your uncle?" Bobby had a sad smile on, one unmistakably soaked in the melancholy of his diagnosis, but also in the rare confession of love from Dean Winchester-even if it was between the lines.

Dean didn't immediately notice the slip, but when Bobby pointed it out he went from red all over to just blushing and puts his head on the table. "Shut up. I'm emotional right now. It doesn't count."

Bobby stood up from the chair and sat on the table, facing the three. "Boys, even after I'm gone I know that you all will keep moving forward. It's what you do. You're strong and brave and good. If there was some miracle cure I would take it, but because there isn't, we have to realize that I'm going to die. But while I'm here I'm going to spend as much time as I can with you all-my family."

What resulted was a brief four-person hug, with Dean actually being the last to release. Eight feet away on the sturdy IKEA chair Castiel had to keep his face neutral as his insides roiled, yet again. He knew guilt, he knew anxiety, he knew anger, he knew self-loathing, but now he knew something greater than all these individual parts as they combined to make the angel feel as if he was the lowest creature on the face of the earth.


	23. The End of Bobby?

**Chapter 23: The End of Bobby?**

July 6th, 1989 was an ordinary Thurday. North Plains was a beautiful 78 degrees with low humidity and a mostly blue sky. The oak trees were a deep mid-summer green as Norma Winslow walked from her front door to get The Oregonian. As usual the paper boy had failed to place it on her front step, so she had to walk across the small front yard to pick it up by her rose bushes. As she bent over to get the paper she noticed something strange across the street. Norma adjusted her glasses as she put down the paper and hurriedly crossed the street.

Bobby Singer was lying unconscious at the foot of his front steps, his face scraped and his body limp. Norma quickly leaned over to see if he was breathing-he was, barely-and remembered to never move an injured person if there was a chance of spinal injury. And given how Bobby was sprawled out, there was a chance. She pushed the button on her life alert pendant and watched as the small light began flashing, followed shortly by a man's voice.

"Mrs. Winslow, this is Paul from life alert, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but I found my neighbor who seems to have fallen down his stairs. I think he may need an ambulance."

The steam rose from the pancakes as Gus grabbed a second helping off the pile in the middle of the dining room table. Sam and Dean were also happily forking more onto their plates, with Dean only occasionally stopping to breathe between mouthfuls of the fluffy, buttery goodness. Cas had recently read a Martha Stewart cookbook and had slightly modified his usual recipe, the results were even better than his normal cooking-which was quite impressive.

"So." Dean gasped, chewing another pancake as he gulped down a glass of orange juice, "What's the plan for today? We going to have another water war, go to the park, or try to figure out the whole 'giant slingshot' thing?"

"I vote slingshot, if we figure it out we can launch stuff half-way into Maple Court, which would give a definite edge on any water wars." Gus grabbed a strip of bacon and folded it between a pancake to make the world's least healthy sandwich. He had begun to adapt to life in the Winchester household, and had quickly learned about Dean's strategic planning tendencies and the insane preparations that came with them after discovering a spare pack of empty balloons and a jug of water in the hall closet.

"Can we go to the park? Carol said she's got a new pogo stick and I want to try and see if I can jump over the big rock next to the baseball field." Sam gleefully rubbed his hands together as he envisioned flying over the boulder like a superhero-unaware of the cast it would give him when he did get the chance to attempt it two weeks later and landed on his left arm.

"Why don't we do both? Start with the park and end with the slingshot? We've got all the time in the world, after all, it is summer vacation!" Dean smiled; glad to be free from school for another month and a half (not that school was _bad_, per se, just kinda boring compared to summers off).

Cas was busy in the kitchen, the phone had rung earlier-and despite normally ignoring it-Cas picked up after the caller rang for a third time. Dean figured it was probably Bobby, or maybe another client from his real estate office. Whatever it was, it was unlikely it mattered too much. What mattered now was remembering where Cas had hidden his power tools so he could get that giant slingshot built.

Castiel re-entered the dining room, seemingly drained of all color. His eyes were sunken and his face was pale. Even his clothes seemed a dingier shade of tan and blue than usual. He felt absolutely awful, as if he had been completely drained. This was numbness, but much worse than numbness of not being able to feel emotions, it was numbness because of the overwhelming weight of too many emotions at once. "Boys, Bobby is in the hospital. His neighbor found him unconscious in his yard this morning and he hasn't woken up since."

Kaiser Hospital was a short drive away, but the silence in the car was almost unbearable. It continued across the parking lot and into the lobby, then up three floors into a small yellow hospital room with a single bed surrounded with devices and wires and tubes-at the center of which was Bobby. He looked peaceful, aside from the cuts on his face. He was connected to a respirator and had an IV drip in. A heart monitor beeped in the background as a metronome for the silent sadness in the room.

"Hello, I'm sorry to intrude-are you Castiel Winchester?" A doctor wearing a white coat over a blue shirt and khakis entered the room. "I'm Dr. Roberts, Bobby's neurologist."

"Yes, I'm Castiel Winchester…" Cas barely registered his own voice among the deafening silence as the heart rate monitor continued to beep.

"As you are aware Bobby has a tumor in his brain, and at this point it has begun to apply immense pressure to areas that are important. Up to this point it was relatively contained, but with its recent descent it has begun to approach the medulla. The medulla is the part of the brain in control of many basic life functions-including breathing. Right now Bobby can still do that on his own, but soon…" Dr. Roberts paused, "You were his listed as his health care power of attorney and have the right to decide things for him. Given that it is near certain that he will never wake up from this coma, and will continue to regress, there are a few important decisions that will need to be made…" Castiel sat down on a chair and quietly closed his eyes, nodding as Dr. Roberts began to explain the process of respiration and the machines that could possibly keep Bobby's body alive-even if his mind was not. He did not want to listen to this, but he had to. It was his responsibility, _and what, keeping Bobby alive wasn't?_

Dean stood up from Bobby's side and walked out of the room, into the hallway. He checked to make sure the corridor was empty before unleashing the most profanity laced string of syllables ever uttered in the small hospital. He returned red-eyed and slumped and collapsed at the bedside, not quite sobbing-_because guys don't do chick flick moments_-but clearly crying.

Sam leaned against Dean as the two of them watched Bobby's chest slowly rise and fall. He was sobbing, and Dean was the only thing in the world right now that seemed to keep him tethered in his spot instead of falling into a black hole of unfathomable sadness.

Gus was also upset, despite only knowing Bobby briefly he does not want him to die. He feels guilty about feeling sad-not having even close to the same relationship with the man as Sam or Dean, but at the same time he knows the short time knowing was one of the best parts of his life.

As Dr. Roberts continues his speech, now discussing the potential option of having Bobby not be supported, Cas feels the weight of the numbness continue to grow until a sudden spark flits across his mind.

"Thank you Dr. Roberts, I feel I need to take my boys home-they are too young to be present for this, it could be traumatic, given their relationship with Bobby. I have made my decision regarding Bobby. Please keep him attached for now, I will be back later to elaborate."

The rest of the day went slowly as the family went through their routine. There was no work on the slingshot, and Cas opted for takeout pizza for dinner. That evening, after checking that all three are asleep, Cas flashed into Bobby's room. Bobby was still lying on the hospital bed, the machines humming and beeping as before. He sighed as he took a deep breath and wrung the sleeve of his pajamas up to his elbow. He took a step forward and placed his palm across Bobby's face, silently murmuring a prayer as bright light filled the hospital room. _Bobby, you belong in this world. I do not. I have done all this to help the boys, and I know in this sacrifice they will continue to have you-and that you will be all they need._

Bobby Singer had never been an overtly religious man. But suddenly being yanked out of a coma to your best friend's fiery eyes glowing as he prays with a hand stuck across your face can certainly instill a sense of fear of God. "Cas?"

"Bobby I know you have many questions, but we have little time. I don't have much time before the other angels come to get me. I've healed you, I am an angel of the Lord and I had been sent to prepare Sam and Dean for their destiny, but I did not follow the plans of my brethren because they were flawed and had the two brothers battle for the end of times. I'm sorry I lied and I promise I only ever acted in the boys' best interest. Please take care of them…" Castiel spoke rapidly, knowing the precious seconds were ticking by until his brethren came to collect him.

Suddenly Zach and two large men wearing suits appeared in the room, grabbed Castiel, and disappeared. Bobby rubbed his eyes to confirm he did in fact just watched three people appear, then vanish with his friend _who had apparently been_ _a goddamn angel-wait, is that blasphemy? _ Bobby attempted to get up to check the hallway, only to realize he is connected to too many machines to actually get out of his bed. _Oh right, I was just in a coma._ After feeling around a minute he found a remote and pressed the call button for the nurse on duty. _Well, this should be interesting…_


	24. Wrath of Heaven

**Chapter 24: Wrath of Heaven**

The trip from the dimly lit hospital room in Oregon to this storage facility in, well, Cas didn't know where, was instantaneous-as was all angelic travel. The room was large and brightly lit-in a harsh, industrial way. The building was made of concrete blocks and had no visible exits from his point of view (however limited it was being held up by two of his brethren who had seemingly chosen bodybuilders as their vessels). The roof was easily thirty feet above them and appeared to be metal. There was a small row of windows just under the roofline, but they were too high and too small to consider as a viable means of escape (as Castiel was sure his brethren had blocked travel from this location). In the center of the room was a large angel trap with a single small gap in the painted pattern-which would surely be sealed to ensure Castiel's containment during the 'discussion'.

The two large angels shoved him in the circle, and before he could turn to exit Zach had sealed the ring with a small jar of black paint. "Since it appears we will be having a discussion, may I ask who you all are?" Cas frowned, irritated. "I'm going to guess that it's Raphael and Uriel in the brute-suits, _both of you have had a tendency to show strength whenever possible,_ and Zachariah in the child, but I may be mistaken. It can be difficult to tell you apart when you intentionally hide yourselves."

Zach smiled with an unnerving calmness masking an internal disgust and rage, "Well, I suppose you aren't as stupid as we thought. Still, quite stupid for harboring a spark of humanity, but nevertheless perceptive. Yes, brother, it's us."

"Let me go. I need to get back to my boys." Cas lowered his brow and leveled a fierce stare at his brothers-turned-captors.

Uriel and Raphael laughed, and Zachariah smiled wickedly, "You see Cas, that is the reason we're not letting you go anywhere. They aren't _your_ boys. The Winchesters are just two humans who-for reasons only God knows-were chosen as the vessels for the apocalypse. Your _only_ job was to keep them alive and safe from demonic influence until the right time." He took a step closer, scowling, "You failed quite poorly at that, by the way. You see, we've been watching you-we even warned you with that bagboy-and you didn't listen. You have some sickness, a predisposition to humanity, and you let it take over and warp you until you were almost one of those hairless apes!"

"They are not just hairless apes. Humanity is God's chosen. We are to serve them, it is our sworn duty."

"Yes, and we are also supposed to send people to Hell for wearing cotton-poly blends. Times change Castiel. But the prophesy does not. These two boys are going to fight, and one will win. That is fact. And we will not allow you to jeopardize that." Zachariah snapped his fingers and a large cart covered with implements appeared. None of them appeared pleasant.

"Please, I know you have this ability as much as I do. I am not special; we are all cut from God's same cloth. Humanity is not an illness or a disease; it is a liberation and fulfillment of…"

"DON'T YOU DARE CONTINUE THIS BLASTPHEMY!" Uriel bellowed, grabbing a large knife from the table and approached Cas' ring.

"Not yet, Uriel." Zachariah held up a hand to stop him.

"Castiel, we have seen you do much contrary to the instructions of the plan and prophesy. I've had to be in the form of this child for almost two years, hiding and watching. I have documented enough misdeeds to have you banished to Hell. However, you have previously been a useful soldier and this is the only time you have acted out. As consequence, we will give you one last chance to relinquish the spark of humanity within you, as a show of good faith."

Castiel was resolute, "No. I will not. I find it deplorable that you invaded a child's form to observe me, and I will stand by any 'misdeed' you claim to have found."

Zachariah growled, then gritted his teeth, "Brother, you know we are not as the demons. Why do you accuse me of taking a form without consent? It's actually remarkably easy to get children to say yes. They're all pretty much pure of heart-well, as close as one of those beings can be-until they're seven or so, and this child Zach was as pious and good as they come." Zachariah smirked, "Plus he was gullible and didn't mind being on autopilot, I had him feeding me information the whole time. The boy still thinks he did the right thing." Zachariah took the tool from Uriel and walked to the outer edge of the circle, intimidating Castiel to take a step back. Castiel took a step forward, "Though I suppose you haven't even talked to Will, the man whose body _you_ are using as a vessel, I mean, he's alive in there, for now…" Suddenly Castiel was ripped from his vessel as Zachariah slashed the man's torso in two, killing the soul within him. Castiel, horrified, felt his host's soul ascend, leaving him alone in the vessel.

"Oh, I suppose since you've never been in an angel trap before you don't recognize some of the embellishments we added to it. This one keeps your essence trapped, it does nothing to keep the vessel safe or from leaving." Zachariah crossed his arms. "But don't worry, just because you are all alone in there doesn't mean we are unable to persuade you to relinquish your spark. In fact, it makes doing this a whole lot easier…" At this the three smiled unsettlingly as they each picked a different tool and approached the ring.

Castiel was unsure how long it had been. It could have been minutes, days, or even years. Being immortal does not lend itself to having a good internal sense of time. Whatever the duration, it felt like an eternity. He had been whipped, cut, bruised, and had been violated in more ways than he knew was possible-including some he would actively attempt to repress if he survived the outcome. The three had taken a break to discuss something, which was to Castiel's benefit as he felt tired and weak from the treatment he'd received. He could barely hear snippets of the conversation.

"…needs to willingly relinquish it…" Raphael murmured, angrily.

"…more severe measures? But, that would mean…" Uriel looked over at Castiel, almost concerned.

"Yes. It would." Zachariah concluded, with the three turning back towards Castiel.

"Castiel, we do not wish to continue to harm you. Relinquish the humanity within you." Zachariah commanded.

Castiel looked him dead in the eyes and spat toward him. "No. I will never relinquish this thing that has grown inside of me. It is not simply something that I could remove. It has become who I am. My soul has come to understand emotion and fullness it never did as I was before. I have come to experience love, in so many forms. I love my boys; I love my friendship with Bobby. I feel warm and full and alive when I am around them. Even with the negative emotions there is a depth and complexity that causes me to understand just how much I was missing before. To be truly heartbroken, or frustrated, or to feel worthless or downcast: they all have meaning and each play an important role. Emotions and humanity are gorgeous, wonderful things. They allow so much more to life than simply existing. I initially feared them, but I now would never live without them."

"Fine. If that is how you feel we will be forced to take drastic measures. We are going to reeducate you until you realize your errors and relinquish your humanity." Zachariah stepped aside as he sneered, stone faced but somehow seething with utter contempt.

Uriel picked up a jar from under the table of implements and cracked the seal. It was holy oil. He poured it onto Castiel's head and let it seep down his back. Raphael removed a scroll from the table and began to read in Hebrew as Uriel lit a lamp and strode towards Castiel. Castiel's eyes quickly opened wide as he realized the impending pain and attempted to claw a way out of the circle, watching the slowly approaching trio as he desperately tried to break the circle.

" אמרנו לך מחדש, אחי נתן אש זו לשרוף את החטאים שלך" Raphael chanted as the oil was ignited as Castiel released the loudest howl he was able.


	25. Our Father, Who Art in Heaven

**Chapter 25: Our Father, Who Art in Heaven**

Cindy Dermott sighed as she adjusted her shoes for the fifth time that night. Rounds were never easy-not even night rounds-and having to cover the fourth floor (with its many high-need patients) while Tammy enjoyed a week in the Bahamas for her honeymoon made her more than a bit irritable. But, she smiled and pushed it down-like she always did. Cindy was a suppressor; she simply put it out of her mind and moved on to the next thing. She adjusted her scrubs and threw out her plastic gloves as she left room 413, praying Mrs. MacDonald would reach the restroom next time. A call light was blinking down the hall-room 422.

Before she opened the door she glanced at the chart on the door-_might as well see what I'm in for…_ the chart was for a Robert Singer, age 42. Admitted early yesterday, _in a coma?_ Cindy frowned, _well, something hit that button. Maybe one of the other nurses came in earlier and accidentally nudged it._ She pushed open the door and saw a middle-aged man sitting up in bed, looking both terrified and bemused. "Hello Mr. Singer. I'm Cindy, the night nurse for this floor, it says you were in a coma from a brain tumor. I'm surprised to see you up. Do you feel alright?"

He cleared his throat, pointing at the respirator tube, and mumbled, "I'm fine. Can you take this out?"

Dr. David Roberts had been a devout Jew his entire life, but this was the first time he could say he'd actually experienced a genuine miracle. He believed in God's power, certainly, but not since the days of the prophets had something like this occurred-at least not to him personally. To be awoken at one in the morning by a nurse explaining how a patient of his had woken up from a coma and seemed perfectly healthy was odd, when she elaborated that the patient had had a brain tumor causing the coma, and for all intents and purposes should be a vegetable-that was incredible. What was astonishing was when he arrived at the hospital and walked from his new Volvo up the three flights of stairs to check on Bobby he had no cancer. The MRI showed no growth, the blood tests came back normal, there was nothing unusual with the 42 year old aside from his sudden miraculous recovery from terminal cancer. "Bobby, you're perfectly healthy. There's no cancer, no tumor, nothing. I have no idea what happened, but you're completely healthy…" Dr. Roberts could barely believe the charts. He had rerun the tests multiple times, but they consistently came back negative. Bobby was healthy.

"Thanks, doc. Mind if I borrow a phone, my room doesn't have one and I need to make some calls." Bobby asked, pointing at the large cell phone in Dr. Robert's pocket.

"Certainly, by all means, your family deserves to hear this." He quickly handed Bobby his MicroTac and motioned to the nurse to allow Bobby some peace and quiet before the inevitable reactions of his friends and relations. The two stepped into the hall for a moment, allowing Bobby to punch in Cas' home number.

"Come on, pick up, pick up…" The call completed and a young voice yawned on the other end of the phone. "Dean? Is that you?"

"Bobby?! You're not in a coma?!" Dean exclaimed, clearly no longer tired despite the early hour.

"No, I'm not. Look, can you check to see if Cas is anywhere?" Bobby hoped perhaps his earlier interaction had been some type of hallucination, but his gut told him otherwise. The long pause and shuffle of feet climbing and descending a staircase, as well as opening and shutting doors, indicated it might not have been.

"No, he's not here. Is he at the hospital, with you?"

"He was earlier, but he isn't now… Look, I'm going to get myself discharged soon. Get Sam and Gus up, when I get there I need to talk to you." Bobby glanced at the wall clock, hoping it hadn't been too long already.

"Okay, we'll see you soon."

Despite being healthy Dr. Roberts had insisted on at least another two days of observation and testing. Bobby didn't have time for that. He wasn't considered a risky patient, so it was easy enough to unhook the IV (_not the first time I've had to do this, and probably won't end up being the last_) and shut off the machines, then sneak out of his room. It was time for the day nurse to come on duty so he had at least twenty minutes before she realized he was missing. He snuck down the hall and ducked into an empty office of some Dr. Favinger. Turns out he was an avid golfer, and close enough to Bobby's size he could 'borrow' some of the doctor's clothes. After taking the back stair down he ducked through a maintenance entrance and hurriedly left the hospital campus. A half mile away he dialed a cab at a phone booth and managed to get a ride back to his house, where he paid, then got out of the size-too-small polyester ensemble and quickly drove over to Cas'.

It was 9:15 when Bobby arrived. Less than an hour after his initial call. Dean was impressed, but Bobby was known for being good at stealth. "Alright. Everyone up?"

"Yeah, I made breakfast and we've been waiting a few minutes for you." Dean smirked, chiding Bobby for not being quicker.

Bobby rolled his eyes, "Look, when you're my age you'll be lucky to get out of a hospital that quickly-though hopefully after this whole mess is over you'll never have to worry about that. Meet me in the living room, I need to talk to y'all."

Gus and Sam had been unaware of Bobby's call, and were visibly shocked when he appeared. Sam thought he was a ghost. "AAH! Dean! Where's the salt?! Bobby's a ghost!" Sam ran from the dining room table and quickly started rooting through the kitchen cabinets until he made a salt ring and was wielding a cast-iron frying pan-well, as close to wielding as the small boy could manage with the heavy cookware. Gus was behind him, holding a plastic ladle, unaware of the ghost-repelling powers of iron.

Bobby sighed, then knelt directly outside of the salt ring. "Boys, I'm not a ghost." He stuck his hand within the circle, "See?"

"Bobby?" Sam immediately dropped the pan and hugged Bobby, sticking his head beside Bobby's neck and crying tears of joy.

"Wait, how are you here? You were in a coma the last time we saw you." Gus furrowed his brow, confused, but still glad at Bobby's return.

"Yeah, what happened? Don't tell me you did a deal with a demon…" Dean clenched his teeth as he entered the kitchen, disgusted at the idea of Bobby being on some demon's short leash.

"No. It's not a demon, it's an angel…" Two beers later (_thank God I can finally have this again!_) Bobby had finished explaining everything he knew. The boys were silent for a moment before Dean spoke.

"So, Cas is an angel, I'm supposed to have a battle to end the world against Sammy, and some other angels are holding my 'uncle' captive somewhere because he decided to heal you and not listen to the dicks who wanted to end the world. Just so we're clear, you know how fucked up this is, right?" Dean leaned back into the green upholstery of the couch and rubbed his temple. _Why couldn't anything in this family be normal?!_

"Yup. That's the condensed version."

"So how are we gonna get Cas back?" Gus looked at Bobby with a fierce determination that nearly rivaled Dean's.

"Wait, none of you are mad at him or anything? I half expected at least one of you to curse about him for lying to you." Bobby was surprised.

"Look, the guy might not actually be our uncle but for my concerns he's family. Those dickless assholes took him from us. For what? Helping Bobby and not wanting to start an apocalypse with a bunch of elementary schoolers? Cas has been a hell of a lot more of a father than our actual Dad, and I'm not going to lose him. Once we save him, then I'm going to curse his ass out and find out everything he's been hiding." Dean stood up, "So Bobby, how do we save our angel?"

"Honestly, until a few hours ago I didn't think angels existed. I do have some books that mention them, but they're with the biblical apocrypha-way down in the basement in the stuff I haven't even bothered unpacking. It's going to take a while to find them, let alone look through them to find something useful." Bobby sighed, cursing his lack of forethought and organizational skills.

"Well, come on. Let's go look for a way to save him!" Dean started toward the front door.

"Dean, no. You're staying here with your brother and Gus. If this is what I think it's going to be a big deal summoning an angel, and could very well cause a hell of a lot of danger for anyone involved. You kids are staying here. I'm not letting you risk your lives." Bobby was firm, _these kids deserve normal, and normal kids don't risk their necks to summon an angel._

"Bobby, we're going with you. I read at a third grade level, Dean and Gus both read above grade level, too. Dean and I have handled our share of monsters and ghouls." Sam began.

"You need all the help you can get reading those books. Plus Gus isn't useless when it comes to combat either. I've seen him fight. He's better than most." Dean continued.

"I've only known Cas briefly, but he saved me from being shipped off to God-knows-where as an orphan. He might have lied to us, but he saved us all. We owe him our lives as they are now. I'm not going to stand by. We are going to help you save him." Gus concluded, the three boys standing, trying their best to look intimidating as they glanced up the nearly two-foot difference at Bobby's face.

_For chrissakes…_ "Fine. You can help look through the books, but when it actually comes to summoning, you are staying here with a sitter." Bobby sighed, and when the looks didn't relent he scowled back, "I'm older than all three of you combined. I'm in charge, and if I say I don't want you getting killed or maimed, I mean it. You're staying here with a sitter when it happens."

"Fine. We'll negotiate that later. Come on, we've got some books to look through." Dean motioned and the three boys led the way to Bobby's car. _Dear God, why can't I just have normal friends with normal kids? One wouldn't be too much to ask for._


	26. Grace Given

**Chapter 26: Grace Given**

Blood. So much blood. Castiel knew that he had around 5 liters of blood in his body, or a bit over one gallon. It amazed him that some humans voluntarily donated their blood to help others, losing a small part of themselves in order to help save others' lives. It was another reason to respect them. Though, on a more pressing note it was evident that he had begun to lose more blood than he should-well, ideally zero blood loss is a goal, but in his current state… He had read in a first aid book (while looking up how to treat toothaches-as Dean often had the malady) that losing around 2 liters was bad, as in, bad enough to necessitate hospitalization. He estimated he had lost around a liter at this point and there appeared to be no end near.

The 'discussion' as his brothers insisted on calling it, had become more visceral than it had been initially. The holy fire covering his back had been extinguished, leaving a bubbled mass of flesh with visible bits of bone poking along his spine. It was free of pain, given that there were no longer nerve endings in the area to feel pain. The cuts on his arms, legs, and chest were still oozing blood as he was again struck with a rod. This time it was Uriel. The three had gone to taking turns torturing him, with the other two screaming at him to relinquish his humanity as they read portions of a text to try to warp his mind.

It was ineffective. Castiel had mentally blocked himself from the onslaught, relying on the feelings of love and peace he had had with the boys and with Bobby to shut out the attacks. He concentrated on Bobby's birthday party the previous year when Dean had insisted on a piñata, and Bobby's incredulous look at being blindfolded and given a broom to smack the small paper orb. The memory eased the pain, but the dull heat of injury was growing toward a fever and it was increasingly difficult to resist breaking.

"WHY. WON'T. YOU. GIVE. UP." Uriel shouted, sweeping the rod under Castiel's arms and legs, causing his body to again hit the floor, then repeatedly hitting him in time with each of the words.

"Uriel, stop. You are clearly not skilled enough at this. Repeatedly hitting him has yielded no results, why would it now?" Zachariah rolled his eyes as he walked over and motioned for the rod. "Castiel. If you relinquish your spark we will heal you from this pain and return you to heaven, where you will be freed from your tainted memories of this event and the time with the humans." He smiled, an attempt at being the 'good cop' in this routine, but it was clear from the hatred in his eyes that there was no empathy in the angel.

Castiel panted as he slowly lifted his head from the ground, his face bruised nearly beyond recognition, his nose broken and his eyes bloodshot, "I will never let you take this from me. I would rather fall than try to advance 'the plan'. I will never let you have my boys fight, I have ensured that they love each other and will avoid the conflict. They will live normal lives, as I want them to. I will continue to fight you every moment I get if you refuse to turn from this prophesy. Sam and Dean will never do as you intend so long as I am here and can protect them."

"You would sacrifice your grace for a bunch of filthy apes who barely comprehend God's glory and power?!" Raphael was furious. He had heard enough. "Brother I am disappointed in you, but consider this a consolation for your insolence." He quickly flashed a large blade and struck the air behind Castiel's shoulder blades. Had Castiel been a human it would have been harmless, but because he was not…

"Raphael?! What have you done?" Uriel ran beside him and took the angel blade from his hand. Castiel lay on the ground, twitching and foaming at the mouth, clearly having given into the immense pain that had been dealt him.

"He said he wished to fall instead of advance our father's plan, so I made him as the humans are and severed his wings." Raphael turned from Castiel and looked at the ceiling, resolved to break this abomination who claimed to still be one of them.


	27. Mortal Decisions

**Chapter 27: Mortal Decisions**

Bobby's basement was mostly well organized-well, for Bobby, that is-there was a laundry area, workshop, and even some spare parts for his truck placed neatly on metal shelves. Though, there was one glaring omission to this neatness-the massive pile of boxes in the far corner of the basement. They started under the stairs and poured out until they nearly reached the furnace. Bobby guessed there were around thirty unopened boxes from the move-all of them old books and documents he hadn't unpacked due to lack of space or usefulness of the content. Most of them were on hyper-specific content, or were widely discredited or useless with the exception of a few select passages. The useful books were upstairs on shelves or scattered throughout the house in various drawers and cubbies.

"Okay, I know it looks like a lot, but they are labeled. We're looking for anything that says 'biblical', 'apocrypha', or 'miscellaneous'. Hopefully one of those books should have something about summoning an angel. Ideally, if we can find a ritual we could summon Castiel, though I'm not sure it'll end up being that easy…" Bobby sighed, staring at the large pile of boxes before grabbing the nearest one and placing it off to the side. Hopefully the biblical books were toward the front.

They weren't. After moving twenty-seven boxes to the side they found the first of four boxes of potentially useful information. Each boy grabbed a box, and Bobby lugged his own as they sat down at the dining room table and flipped through the pages, looking for any mention of angels or angelic summoning. Because Bobby was the only one who could read Latin-in addition to Spanish, Japanese, and Russian-any book not in English was handed to him. This led to a large stack forming in front of him as the boys skimmed various books in English.

Hours passed until it was nearly midnight. Bobby ordered the boys to bed-no point in reading while tired, they might miss the vital passage-and they begrudgingly agreed to sleep. He pulled out the mattress on the sofa-bed in the living room and the three boys huddled together as they drifted off; Sam clung to Dean and nuzzled his side, and held onto Dean's shirt with his hand, still an arm's length away. It was almost a quaint domestic scene, if not for the absolutely tragic and supernatural catalyst behind it.

The next morning had a quick breakfast followed by more reading. Dean hadn't read this much in his life. Well, that wasn't true. Dean loved reading when Cas was around. Cas was always interested in the books he read and commented on them. Most of the time Dean would see him reading them later on, always careful to never move his bookmark, and would discuss with him afterwards. But even for an above average reader this was still _a lot_. It was his sixth book of the day, this one was titled 'Arbatel: The Old Magic'. It was some lousy paperback that had mostly nonsense about different types of angels and some other unimportant stuff. The book was relatively modern, which made Dean doubt its validity, but he read on anyway. Apparently Bobby was the second owner-the original was some woman who wrote every once in a while, seemingly correcting errors in the spelling. _So I'm reading the book of some really uptight grammar teacher who also had a thing for the occult. Great._

Dean flipped to a new chapter; this one had a lot more pictures than the previous one-including some with familiar looking symbols. The woman had written much more on these pages, practically filling the margins with scrawled corrections-this time factual as opposed to grammatical. As he flipped the page there was an image of a bowl with herbs in it-with a caption reading 'Summoning Bowl'. Dean's heart raced as he quickly read the page, along with the corrections:

Summoning angels for healing or protection has long been a tradition of certain Christian sects. There is, however, no physical manifestation of the angel, and the summoning is thought more of a way to draw attention to the one in need, as opposed to call an angel to their aid._ Angels can be summoned physically._ Usually the ritual involves drawing a figure (see image on opposite page) and placing a bowl of herbs in the center. _The bowl contains angelica (**must** be fresh), mistletoe, basil, and yew as well as a physical artifact of the angel to summon-i.e. a remnant of a former vessel. _There are then candles placed at the four intersections of the figure and a brief incantation is said. _There is no incantation aside from stating the angel's name when the bowl's contents are lit. _The incantation varies widely, with no single version used. Often, depending on the sect, there may be an addition of spoken prayer.

"Bobby!" Dean nearly fell off the loveseat as he ran into the study where Bobby had laid out all the foreign language books. "I found something!" He held out the book and pointed at the summoning bowl image.

"Dean, where did you find this book?" Bobby quickly flipped to the inside cover. _Yup, it was her's._ "Dean, this book belonged to a hunter I met in Illinois many years ago. She was a schoolteacher who fought evil –mostly demons-on the weekends and summer break. She also was a bit of a religious nut, claimed this book would help convince me of God's divine power. I never read it, thought it was some tract."

"Well, it looks like she found out a way to summon angels-if this is any indication. Even if it doesn't work, it's the first thing we've found with actual instructions aside from the ritual that claimed it could make you see angels' wings." Dean was cautiously optimistic, hoping that for once perhaps something would go smoothly in his life.

"Well, it's worth a shot."

Bobby scrounged up all the ingredients from his supply downstairs and traced a chalk copy of the symbol. After grabbing a strand of Cas' hair out of a comb in the bathroom-he was the only one with that shade of brown-and setting the candles, Bobby lit the herbs and spoke, "Castiel!" Nothing happened. "Cas?" The room was still quiet, with Bobby alone in the garage's empty bay (the boys were inside at his insistence).

"Well, that was a dud." Bobby huffed, grabbing the bowl and candles before wiping the chalk off the floor.

When he returned alone he was met with three disappointed faces. "So it didn't work?" Sam was on the verge of tears, having thought the ritual would summon Cas and that things would be back to normal.

"No. I didn't think it would." Bobby placed the book on the table then sat down, tired.

Dean frowned, "Did you follow the instructions exactly?"

"Yes."

"Every single instruction?"

"Yes Dean, I'm not an amateur. I've summoned a few things in my life." Bobby was getting irritated.

"Including the one about the fresh angelica?"

"_Fresh_ angelica?" Bobby hadn't read that.

"Yeah," Dean flipped open the book, "_Must_ be fresh. I guess for some reason it only works with new angelica."

"Well, I don't have fresh angelica. We live in Oregon, the closest wild angelica is in California." _Stuff like this isn't usually that exacting. Hell, sometimes I end up mumbling half the bullshit and it still works. _

"Alright, so we're going to California." Dean was confident as he walked to the door, waiting for Bobby to follow with the keys to his truck.

"Dean, I hate to break it to you, but I think this summoning ritual is bull. Most of the time you can fumble your way through these things and they work fine. Why do you think so many people end up summoning shit with Ouija boards by accident? If it didn't work with the dried stuff, chances are, it won't work with the live stuff. We just need to keep searching-we'll find a real ritual." Bobby put his hands in his pockets as he glanced back at the stack he needed to translate and check.

"But you didn't follow the instructions. According to my teacher you have to follow the instructions if you want things to work, especially with science." Sam looked at Bobby, pleading, his eyes round and watery-sad puppy dog eyes, "And this is kinda science. We need to try it, to see if it works."

Bobby scowled, _oh, come on…_ "Fine. I'll go to California and try it there. I'll ask Mrs. Winslow next door to watch you until I get back."

"The same Mrs. Winslow who called life alert because she thought you were dying on your front porch?" Gus raised an eyebrow, "Don't you think she'll find it a bit weird that you're suddenly healthy and taking care of three kids-none of whom are yours?"

_Goddamn these little idjits are stubborn, _"Argh. Okay, we'll go to California. But none of you are wandering off. And when I do summon it, you're all staying in the car in case anything happens."

Dean looked at Sam, then at Gus. The three nodded. "We find that acceptable. Now let's drive!"

It was evening when the car entered California. The boys had dozed off on the way, clearly exhausted from the stress of recent events and the lack of sleep from the night before. Bobby knew these hills; California was home to a good number of undesirable creatures and cryptids. He turned onto Route 299 and headed west toward Burney, according to the wild flora and fauna guide a decent part of the mountains here should be covered in the stuff. _God I hope this works, if not it's more than just a few hours wasted…_

After passing a logging company Bobby kept on the road until he spied a small shoot-off leading up into the hills where the angelica grew. The narrow road was unpaved, and soon the many potholes woke up the boys.

"Where are we?" Sam muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"California. We should be near the angelica soon. This road should lead us into the mountain clearing where it grows." Bobby focused on avoiding a kiddie-pool sized divot in the road as he lamented that the road appeared to be getting worse. It was soon too treacherous to navigate by car, with the potholes soon overtaking all the available road surface.

"Alright, we're parking here. Road's too much of a mess to continue. Remember, we're looking for this." Bobby held up the book and pointed to the white flower, "Once we find it you three are going back to the car where it's safe, just in case something happens. And stay close, I don't want to have to try and find one of you idjits because you got lost in the California wilderness."

A short walk took the group from the car into a large clearing in the woods. It appeared as though the logging company operated in this area, given the large number of stumps present. "Okay, since it's clear here we can spread out a little. Just stay in the clearing where I can see you." Bobby nodded to check if the boys understood. They did, with Sam, Dean, and Gus nodding back. "Good. Stay safe."

Bobby began walking toward the northern corner of the clearing, looking for any of the small white flower, _though with my eyes it'd be a miracle to see anything in this darkness…_ Dean took the opposite direction, heading south, and Gus and Sam took east and west respectively. The air was still and warm as Sam walked west. There were plenty of stumps, so he was careful to watch for roots, to avoid tripping. He hadn't seen any flowers, _but they've gotta be around here somewhere._

Something white caught Sam's eye and he walked toward a thicket at the edge of the clearing. It was just an old shirt, ripped up and tossed out in the clearing. _Probably by one of the workers who didn't feel like taking it home when it got messed up._ As Sam turned around he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he sensed something was not right. He turned around to see a pair of eyes glimmering in the thicket, inhuman and furious. "HELP!" He screamed as he ran at top speed, avoiding the roots as he ran from the large beast with matted fur.

The other three immediately turned toward Sam upon hearing his cry, with Dean and Bobby flabbergasted at the sight unfolding in front of them. It was a werewolf. Bobby charged toward the beast, unsheathing a silver blade from his belt, _how the hell is this fucker out and about when we're not even close to the full moon?!_ Dean was close behind Bobby, unarmed, but sure he would protect his brother.

Bobby caught up to Sam and quickly got between him and the beast, brandishing the silver blade and slicing at its charging arm. It howled in pain, then roared, picking Bobby up and tossing him across the clearing into a large stump near Gus, momentarily knocking the man unconscious. Gus had wet himself at this point and was watching as Dean grabbed Bobby's dropped blade and stood between the monster and his brother.

"Back off you furry piece of shit! I know how to kill you, and if you take another step I will!" Dean's face was full of fury as he grasped the knife, staring down the easily 200 pound beast mere feet from him. It seemed to smile as it stalked closer, its fangs dripping with saliva. With a single swipe of its claw it knocked Dean over and was about to enjoy his flesh as Sam charged over and leapt onto its back.

Well, he tried to, at least. Sam miscalculated and instead ended up smacking the beast in the side of the head, earning its ire. His eyes widened to dinner plates as a set of large teeth dug into his flesh, ripping apart the muscle of his upper arm. His bloodcurdling scream mingled with Dean's livid yell as the boy plunged the silver dagger into its hide repeatedly, even after it had collapsed, dead.

"Holy shit! Are you okay?!" Gus ran over to Sam, who was currently bleeding out on the forest floor. Gus had recently joined cub scouts-along with a reluctant Sam and Dean-and remembered that wounds like this needed to be covered and applied pressure to stop bleeding and prevent shock. He took off his shirt and tied it tight around Sam's shivering arm as he pressed down. Gus bit down, and felt his teeth biting into his gums. The blue fabric quickly became brown as blood seeped into it. "Shit. Dean, give me your shirt." Dean was still stabbing the werewolf, almost in a trance. "Dean!" He didn't change. "Dean! For fucks sake, get over here and give me your shirt, your brother is bleeding out!"

Dean seemed to leave his trance at those words. "Sammy? Oh my God. Oh my God. Sammy? Sammy!" Dean leapt off the corpse and ran to Sam's side. The young boy was still conscious, but weak. "Sammy, I'm here. Please stay here. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I failed. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please, Sammy, please stay…" Dean nearly ripped off his shirt as he started pushing on Sam's arm, tears filling his eyes.

Bobby finally managed to get up from his twenty foot launch and staggered toward the boys. There was blood at the corner of his mouth-_which is never a good sign-_and he was quite worried by the sight of Dean and Gus huddled over Sam. _God please help that boy to be alright._

He wasn't. But before he could get close enough to see all that was wrong Dean had stood up and blocked Bobby's path to Sam. "Dean, what are you doing? Move, I need to see your brother."

"No. You're not taking another step." Dean shakily held the knife. "Dad always said that if one of us got bit we had to finish the job, but I'm not going to do that. Sam's my brother, and I don't care if this means he isn't human anymore. If you even think about doing anything, I'll… I'll…" Dean broke down, apparently trapped in a decision between his brother and one of the closest things he had to a father.

_John Winchester you goddamn sonuvabitch. I knew I should've called CPS, fuck the bodies they might've found in my junkyard. _"Dean, I'm not going to hurt Sam. You've known me for years, have I ever threatened either of you?"

"No."

"Did I ever tell you that if your brother got bit you'd have to kill him?"

"No."

"Then why would I suddenly want to hurt him now. I don't care what Sam is, as long as he's Sam. Now let me in, I know more about first aid than either of you." Bobby's stern, but clearly concerned face caused Dean to lower the blade. "Thank you."

Gus was silent as Bobby patched up Sam as best he could. He normally couldn't stand the sight of so much blood, let alone someone getting their arm stitched back up after a gnarly bite, but for some reason it seemed almost, _appetizing?_ "Dean, when you said your Dad took you hunting, you meant for stuff like this?!"

Dean didn't look up from Sam as Bobby finished stitching his arm. "Yeah, though werewolves were just one of the nasties we fought."

"Jesus Christ, that's insane!" Gus gawked as Sam opened his eyes, only to have them seemingly widen in panic again.

"No… no…" Sam mumbled, trying to back away from Gus.

"What?" Gus was confused at the reaction.

Bobby followed Sam's glance and his eyebrows nearly reached the brim of his hat as he inhaled deeply, "Gus… you might putting your extra chompers away? It's a bit unnerving right now…"

Dean glanced at Gus and was similarly shocked, Gus put a hand to his mouth and felt long needle like teeth. "Wait… What's going on?"

"Dude, you're a vampire. Put the teeth away right now. I know blood's, like, your thing, but not now." Dean seemed more annoyed than angry at the revelation, but given the recent status of his brother and uncle, it made sense that a vampire was at this point more of an inconvenience than a threat.

"What. How the hell am I a vampire?!" Gus felt the blood drain from his face as he sat on a stump and quickly thought back to try to remember anything about this hereto unknown aspect of himself.

"Well, at some point you got bit." Bobby said, hoisting Sam to his feet. Sam was uneasy, but could manage. It wasn't the first time he'd been attacked.

"Okay, I'm going to need an explanation later-but for now I guess we need to get Sam back to civilization, he needs a hospital." Gus warily watched as Sam tried to stagger along with Bobby's help.

"No." Sam firmly replied.

"Sammy, you need a hospital." Dean fretted over his brother as Bobby continued to help him back toward the car.

"We came here for some stupid plant and we're getting it. Bobby, put me down." Sam commanded, to which Bobby complied, sitting him on a large pine stump, "Find that _fucking_ weed and get the ritual started. I don't care if I'm not in the car. I'm six and found out I'm going to be a _fucking_ furry every full moon courtesy of some _asshole_ who bit me. So do the ritual, get Cas, and let's go home!"

Dean frowned, contemplating scolding Sam on his language, but instead deciding not to, given how his little brother currently seemed as pissed off and done with his current situation as an adult. Instead he looked down and realized he was standing on top of a clump of angelica.

"Hey Bobby, when you say 'fresh' that doesn't mean untrampled, right?"

"Castiel, we have been more than generous with our offer. If you do not concede we will be forced to move beyond physical torture. You don't know what it feels like to have your essence ripped and torn into millions of pieces, then reassembled into a grotesque form to be destroyed again and again. To this point we have been more than fair. Give up the spark or we will be forced to remove you from this vessel and use more brutish persuasion." Uriel was standing at the edge of the ring, brandishing a large blade that glimmered with holy light. Castiel was silent, his head bowed, but his eyes still open and fiercely challenging his tormentor. "Very well." Uriel broke the circle and entered, lifted the knife and brought it down, stabbing an empty board where Castiel had once been.

A bruised, burnt, and broken Castiel flashed into existence mere feet from the bowl. He looked nearly dead, if not for the panting and choking.

"Cas! You're alive!" Sam stood and tried to run over, only to fall on his face, too weak to move at such a high speed. Dean quickly picked up Sam, and after checking that he hadn't been further injured, the two moved towards Castiel.

"Boys, I am sorry I lied." Castiel collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.


	28. Humanity

**Chapter 28: Humanity**

The top speed for a 1979 Ford F150 is 149 miles per hour according to industry testing in ideal conditions. 'Ideal conditions' usually refers to a clean, dry road-bed; high octane fuel; and a professional driver perfectly shifting the five-speed transmission. Conditions were less than ideal as Bobby pealed out of the small excuse of a road that had lead to the clearing. It had started raining shortly after Cas' reappearance, and with only Gus unharmed it had been an ordeal to get everyone else into the cramped bench seat without aggravating their injuries.

The closest hospital was Mayers Memorial in Fall River Mills, an almost twenty minute drive through the mountainous California expanse. The winding road was made more dangerous by the slick asphalt, which lead to numerous occasions where the truck began to slide and Bobby had to steer to correct the aquaplaning vehicle as a terrified Gus nearly wet his pants for a second time that evening. As the road flooded the potholes that had been easy to avoid earlier filled in with water and became impossible to detect, leading to a particularly nasty incident where the entire front end jerked as the passenger tire smacked into a divot.

"Fuck." Castiel grunted as he smacked against the passenger window, his face smearing dried blood against the glass.

The brakes squealed as the entire car turned to face Cas, who was conscious and clearly very annoyed at being brought back into consciousness through the violent smacking of his face against laminated glass courtesy of a divot in the road. "Cas, what did you just say?" Bobby had to check to make sure he had heard him correctly.

"I said 'fuck'. I can say a whole lot more than that, and probably will if I don't get some serious painkillers in my system… giving up your grace-whether voluntary or not-still hurts, which doesn't help the other physical abuse my so-called 'brothers' had made me endure." Castiel groaned as his head began to scream, throbbing violently as if to tell him that he shouldn't be awake or moving.

"Your grace?" Dean scrunched his face together as he tried to understand, _Cas was an angel, but what did grace have to do with anything?_

"Yes." Cas held his head with his hand, feeling the mingling of dried and fresh blood on his forehead, "Bobby please keep driving, we all need medical attention and I can talk whether we are in motion or sitting here."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry-it's just weird hearing _you_ of all people let loose with an f-bomb."

"It's fine." Cas attempted to weakly smile, but the pain forced his face into a grimace halfway through. "I really can't talk much now-given that my forehead appears to be split near clean open in addition to the delightful third degree burns and various lacerations on my body all telling me to slip back into unconsciousness-but a very simplified version is this: grace is what makes an angel angelic. It's our essence. When an angel gives up their grace its literally giving up what they are. It feels similar to being lit on fire and launched through a jet engine." He paused, noting the horrified looks on the boys' faces, "I gave up my grace because I know that the others would never leave me alone if I still had it and was on earth. I had a spark of humanity in me, so I chose that instead of my grace. When you summoned me I arrived, then relinquished my grace to keep my brethren at bay so that I could continue to be with you all. That is, if you are willing to forgive me for my lies and would still welcome me." Cas looked ashamed as he furrowed his brow and willed the pain to decrease, _humanity is much more fragile than I imagined…_

"We forgive you." Dean muttered, trying to look angry, despite the tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He was more relieved to have Cas back than he was angry at his past lies, though he was definitely going to let him have it once they were all mended.

"We love you Cas." Sam coughed, his earlier second wind having worn off leaving the young boy pale, but determined.

"But seriously, we're going to need an explanation later. Like, come on, he's gonna be a werewolf, you were an angel, and I'm a vampire?! Please someone tell me this isn't normal for you people." Gus stammered, trying to process all the supernatural events that had transpired in the last two days.

"Well, not exactly normal, but not nuts either." Bobby smirked as he pulled into the hospital emergency room turn-around, "Alright everyone, it was a bear attack and Cas ended up having to fight off a crazed local with a knife who pushed him in the fire. Got it?"

"Got it." Sam and Dean responded, following Bobby and Cas into the emergency room.

"Christ almighty, how am I-_a vampire_-the normal one in this family?" Gus muttered as he shut the door and walked through the sliding glass doors to hear the horrified screams of a receptionist as Cas doubled over and started coughing up blood. _It was going to be a long night._

It was a long night. It was actually eleven long nights as the various Winchesters and Bobby recovered. Sam and Cas were the two most severe cases of the bunch. Both were immediately rushed to the OR as Sam was properly stitched and given a transfusion, and Cas underwent a skin-graft and numerous stitches on his stab wounds and cuts. Dean had a few stitches as well from the werewolf's swipe, but was quickly discharged. Bobby also was easily mended, he hadn't been concussed and was simply given a few painkillers for the throbbing headache courtesy of a large stump.

The two of them, along with Gus, stayed in the only hotel in town, a small brick building from the fifties that hadn't been renovated since. Dean was used the accommodations-having stayed in dozens of similar locales- and quickly collapsed into sleep, exhausted but relieved over his family being in the competent hands of trained medical professionals. Gus, however, was wide awake, terrified at the discovery of him being a vampire.

"Bobby, I need to ask you a few questions." He hesitantly sat on the edge of the double bed where Bobby lay looking at the ceiling.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it's the vampire thing, right?" Bobby sat up and turned to sit next to Gus on the side of the bed.

"Am I a bad person, because I'm a vampire?"

The childlike innocence coupled with the fact that Gus seemed on the edge of tears moved Bobby, _shit… _"Gus, you're not a bad person. Not all vampires are bad. In fact, most of the things hunters hunt aren't all bad. Sometimes they just try to avoid people and live peacefully on their own."

"But, I don't want to avoid people, I like being around you…" He paused, then added, "and Sam and Dean, and all the kids at school."

"Look, you don't have to go on your own. I was just saying some vampires do. You can still be around us. We all like you. I do, and so do the boys and Cas." He paused, "The important thing is just making sure that you control your bloodlust. You saw blood tonight and couldn't control yourself. I'd imagine it's because it's been a while since you had any of the special strawberry surprise."

"I've never drank anybody's blood!" Gus was shocked at the implication.

"I'm not saying you did, I'm saying you have to drink blood to survive, but it doesn't have to be human. Plenty of vamps drink cow blood." Bobby thought back to a particularly thirsty group that had drained an entire dairy herd a few years back, _and many of them seem to really like the stuff._

"I have to drink blood to survive?"

"Yes. It's one of the drawbacks, that and the fact that I'm sure you've noticed how easily you burn in the sun."

"I thought it was because I was Irish."

Bobby stifled a chuckle, "No."

"So, wait, why can I still see my reflection?" Gus frowned, confused at the seemingly contradictory lore.

"That's just bullshit from television and comics. You can still see your reflection and eat garlic bread. Just don't expect to turn into a bat or anything. You're still basically human, except for the not-aging thing." Bobby waved his hand as he went down the list, grimacing at the realization of the potential impact of the last comment after he'd said it.

"Wait. I'm not going to age?"

"Not physically, you'll still mature mentally, but your body is basically stuck where it is."

"So I'm going to be four and a half feet the rest of my life?!" Gus nearly screamed as he leapt to his feet and turned to face Bobby. "Isn't it a bit suspicious to look like a kid even when you're an adult?"

"Calm down. It isn't the first time I've had to cover for an ageless being…" Bobby scowled, thinking back to the particularly annoying fairy who pretended to be a little girl while she wreaked havoc. "I'll forge a doctor's note for pituitary issues and we'll be fine."

"Okay…" Gus processed as he sat back down. "Why are you doing all this for me? You told me how you used to go out and kill all sorts of stuff like me, but you're helping me… You're willing to cover for me."

Gus leaned over and grabbed Bobby's torso. "Thanks Bobby. You're awesome."

Bobby Singer did not cry in public, but in this one case there was some strange salty liquid coming from his eyes as he reciprocated and hugged back the small vampire boy.

Sam's stitches and transfusion were successful, even though the AB negative blood type had the doctor frantically searching the lab. He woke up the next morning in the hospital, with Dean sitting anxiously by his bedside and Gus and Bobby sitting in chairs by the wall, playing what appeared to be rummy. "Dean?" He lifted an arm to find an IV in his wrist as he rubbed his eyes.

"Sammy!" Dean nearly hopped into the bed to hug his brother before Bobby grabbed him by the scruff of his collar.

"Dean! Sam just had surgery to stitch up his arm, as well as a blood transfusion. He is not ready for a flying tackle-turned-hug." Bobby sternly set him back down, muttering, "I swear God he's not an idjit, but he's just got to challenge me whenever he gets the chance."

After a conversation discussing the previous night, and Dean showing Sam his stitches the elephant in the room was addressed. "What about Cas?" Sam tilted his head toward the door, wondering if he could see out to glance Cas' room.

"He's still in surgery. The doctors had to do some fairly extensive work grafting skin to fix his back, as well as stitching up his cuts and stab wounds. They said he should be out soon, then on some strong painkillers for a while, so he'll be knocked out to avoid enduring the worst of the pain." Bobby replied.

Cas woke up three days later, and looking at the wall clock determined he was either very lucky or had been unconscious for multiple days. He was connected to an IV and had a sling on his left arm, as well as a few large pillows shoved behind him, keeping his body wedged in position. He found the remote for the television and flipped channels until the news came on, which confirmed his latter suspicion. The television remote also had a call button, and upon pressing it a nurse quickly walked into the room.

"Mr. Winchester! Good to see you up! You were in quite a state when you came in. When you're ready I can have your doctors come in and explain everything that happened in detail." She smiled as she made a few notes on his chart.

"Can you call my family and tell them I'm up?" He mumbled, attempting to shift in bed.

"Please don't move. If you're uncomfortable I can help adjust things, but for the moment we need you to stay still while your body heals." She quickly moved beside him and fluffed a few pillows. "I'll call your family in a moment, but we can bring your son Sam over from his room now if you'd like."

"Sam's here?"

"Yes, he should be discharged later today. We were watching to make sure the transfusion didn't have any complications."

Thirty minutes later Sam, Dean, Bobby, and Gus were sitting around Cas' bed. Sam had been wheeled over by the nurses and was chatting with Cas as Bobby walked in with Dean and Gus. After a few brief introductions Dean walked up to the bedside and slapped Cas on the arm. "You fucking lied to us! You said you were our uncle and you were some magic thing from heaven?!"

"Dean!" Bobby was shocked.

"I told you I was going to cuss him out when we found him." Dean's frown quickly broke as he began to cry and leaned in to hug Cas, "Don't you ever do that again! We can't lose you." Cas lifted his good arm and patted Dean's back as he cried quietly into Cas' blankets. He sniffled and wiped his eyes before standing back up.

"Okay, now that we're all okay, we need some explanations." Dean demanded as he sat down.

"Where do you want me to begin?"

The next two hours were spent with Cas explaining everything-including the part about Sam and Dean being vessels and how he was supposed to prepare them, which he had refused. Upon the mention of demon blood Sam suddenly grew two shades paler, as did Bobby and Dean.

"Wait. That thing that killed Mom turned me into a demon?!" Sam was nearly hyperventilating.

"No. You're still you. You're human, well, actually I guess you're lycanthrope? I am unsure how your blood will react to the infection. In any case, you aren't a demon. The blood was supposed to mark you as a vessel for Lucifer for the battle at the end of ages, but seeing as that isn't going to happen, it's unlikely that it will cause anything unless you attempt to tap into the latent psychic powers you possess."

"Wait, hold up, _latent psychic powers_?" Dean glanced at his little brother.

"Yes, because of the demon blood in his system he likely will be able to have some degree of precognition, telekinetic abilities, and possibly more." Cas answered, turning to Sam, "But chances are that you might not end up with any of these. In any case, you're still you, and we're all still here for you."

After a brief discussion of Gus' past (a basic overview of his possession and previous abusive childhood, as well as how he was bit), and how he was an angel, Cas had finished explaining everything he knew.

"Now that you know the whole truth about me, as well as yourselves, I understand if you want nothing to do with me. I lied to you, repeatedly; I tampered with you memories; and I abused your trust in order to achieve supernatural goals-though to my credit I did end that fairly quickly. If you want to leave and never see me again I understand, just know I love you all and consider you the closest thing I have to family." Castiel was filled with anxiety and self loathing as he spoke, he knew he had gone beyond the limits of trust and even with his honesty now it was entirely likely they would never want to see him again.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Dean nearly shouted, "Cas, you're our Cas-dad-uncle-thing." He sighed, "Look, you lied, so what? You know how many times our dad lied to us? Plus you didn't risk our lives on trips chasing the supernatural. You gave us a home and protected us."

"You kept us away from stuff that would hurt us, and you gave us a chance to be kids. You never put yourself first. And you gave up being an angel just to be with us." Sam continued, smiling.

"You saved me, and instead of killing me-like any other hunter or angel would've-you took me in. You screwed with my head, but it was to protect me. Honestly, it made sense to blank out all the stuff that demon did, I trust you. You took in me, a vampire-something that is clearly not normally 'good'-because you wanted to protect me." Gus smirked, flashing his fangs for a moment.

"Cas, I've known these boys almost their whole lives and until they were with you I thought they were going to end up stuck like their father, killing and smiting until they ended up going too far and died. You gave them a home. Even if it was initially a ploy, you realized the error of the other angels and decided to protect these boys. You're a good man, and I'm proud to be your friend." Bobby briefly clasped a hand on Cas' good arm.

Cas felt warm tears begin to well up in his eyes and then slide across his face as a new wave of emotion covered him. It was forgiveness. True, complete forgiveness. It was love, complete love. His spark had grown into a soul in its own right and he no longer had to filter his emotions through a layer of grace. He felt everything wholly, and it was wonderful.


	29. Destiny

**Chapter 29: Destiny**

**Twenty Years Later**

Destiny is defined as the events that will happen to a person in their future. Some people believe that destiny is fixed. No matter what we do, it will inevitably lead to the same outcome. Every path leads to Rome, to use an old saying. Others believe that we control our own destiny. Our decisions matter, and that we can change our world and ourselves for the better if we try. Some believe something in the middle, that we can make some decisions, but that there are only a select number of outcomes in the end.

Regardless of which you subscribe to, Sam and Dean had managed to luck out with theirs. Normalcy was not something that came easily to the Winchesters. Strangeness was in their blood, but despite the odds and the many machinations of heaven and hell they ended up happy, healthy, and whole.

"Dean, where's the spatula? I need it for the grill and I can't find it." Sam poked his head in from the patio at their childhood home as the smell of barbecue wafted through the door.

"You know, for someone with premonitions you sure suck at remembering things." Dean smirked as he grabbed it off the dining room table.

"Hah-hah." Sam rolled his eyes as he smiled and grabbed the metal spatula.

"So, wanna talk about the weather, sports, or work?" Dean joked, "God, you know, I never even thought about living like this as a kid. It's so… normal." He almost cringed at the word.

"Well, we are pretty normal Dean. I mean, we've lived pretty normal lives for, like, two decades…"

"Sammy, need I remind you, you're a werewolf who's got telekinesis and Criss Angel mindfreak powers. Our cousin is a vampire. Cas used to be an angel. We're not normal."

"Well, we're a lot more normal than we were when our father was raising us…" Sam flipped a burger as the meat sizzled.

"Obviously. He was a nut job." Dean cracked a beer, "But I'm pretty sure normal guys don't have to fight evil every few weeks to keep their hometown safe."

"Well, sometimes it is heaven, which claims to be the forces of good." Sam tried to snatch the can.

"Get your own." Dean slapped his hand.

"Fine." Sam flicked the cooler open and a can flew across the patio into his hand.

"Show off." The older Winchester sulked as Sam smirked.

"When's Ava getting here?" Sam sipped the beer as he shut the grill and sat in a patio chair.

"Should be soon, she was stopping over to pick up Gus and Bobby. They're on the way here from the daycare." Dean lazily picked at a corner of his thumbnail. "What about Carol?"

"You know how hard it is to get a toddler into a car seat? I'd be surprised if she manages to get here in the next hour."

"So little Sammy Jr.'s got a wild streak like his uncle, I approve."

"Wild streak? You drive a Civic. Besides, his name isn't Sammy Jr. It's Will." Sam sighed.

"It gets good gas mileage and spares my baby from excessive road wear and tear. Look, call him what you want, his name is Samuel William Winchester Jr. He's Sammy Jr. to me. It's not my fault you decided to carry on the family tradition of naming your kids after their relatives."

"Says the guy who named his daughter Cassandra and his son Robert." Sam snarked.

"Hey, we're not technically related to either Bobby or Cas. Besides, Ava was the one who suggested Cassie's name." Dean defended.

"Still. In any case, how is work going? To rehash the stereotype."

"As if you didn't know, your wife's our accountant." Dean shook his head, "But in all honestly, things are good. We've gotten a lot more business recently, and because I know computers and Bobby knows the older stuff, we can handle most of the stuff that comes in." He smiled, wiping off the condensation from his beer on his 'Singer-Winchester Automotive' t-shirt. "How's life in the legal world?"

"Not bad. Not great either. Right now Cunningham's on my ass for some class-action suit I refused to touch. There's no evidence to support their claims, but if it was able to go through the firm could make money off it. Hopefully he'll see there's nothing to it and drop it, but if not I've been working on some research to show they're fighting something baseless." Sam shrugged his shoulders as he sighed. Law was usually something he enjoyed, but sometimes his boss was a real dickwad.

The doorbell rang, and Cas ran down from upstairs. He'd been getting dressed, after accidentally ruining his shirt with a particularly volatile bottle of mustard. "Ava! Robbie! Cassie!" He stooped down to pick up the two and four year old. "You know, soon you'll be too heavy for me to do this." He quickly set them down as he cracked his back.

"Hey Cas." Ava greeted him with a quick hug before gesturing back to the car. "Where should we put the sides and desserts? I've got Gus and Bobby carrying them in."

"Anywhere's fine. I'll go help them. Knowing you there's enough to feed a small army in there."

"You try getting these two black holes to stop eating." She gestured toward the kids as they ran through the house to the backyard.

Gus was standing beside the trunk of the minivan as Bobby handed him another Tupperware of food. The child's body containing a thirty-year old grunted under the weight. "Dad, seriously, you're gonna crush me under all of this…"

"Gus, you have superhuman strength. A normal ten-year old could manage this." Bobby rolled his eyes as he grabbed a single dish and shut the van's trunk. "Besides, your old man is old."

"Seriously, you've been using that line since I was in high school."

"And it still works." Bobby smirked.

"I can grab some if you want." Cas volunteered, standing on the curb.

"Thank you." Gus quickly offloaded a few containers of cookies and a tub of potato salad.

The three walked inside where they piled the containers on the kitchen counter. Outside Cassie and Robbie had managed to convince Sam and Dean to have a race with them riding piggy back, Ava was laughing as she recorded everything with her phone.

Gus sighed, "Man, I wish I had that kind of energy."

Bobby and Cas exchanged knowing looks before glancing down at the much younger man, "Gus, you're a thirty year old in a ten year old body. Try being sixty." Bobby shook his head as Gus rolled his eyes and the trio walked out to the patio.

Twenty minutes later Carol arrived with Will, the mischievous toddler immediately trying to stuff his face with cookies as his exhausted mom sat down. "Tag in. You're it." She slapped Sam's ass loudly as he blushed and Dean and Ava broke out laughing. Sam cleared his throat as he willed the blushing to stop and picked up Will from the table and set him in the sandbox next to the play-set.

Following the burgers the adults sat and chatted while Gus was stuck on babysitter duty. "Your turn this time." Dean stated, turning back to the large pile of ribs on his plate.

"What?! Come on, can't someone else do it? Those kids can sense weakness, they smell fear and they always manage to make me look stupid in some way by the end of it."

"That's what we're counting on. You don't have to live with 'em, feel our pain for a few minutes while the rest of us get to actually talk like adults." Carol commented, tossing Gus a diaper bag.

"This isn't fair, this is just because of the whole 'permanent kid' thing."

"You know that isn't true. None of us care about that, aside from the fact that we always know there's someone our age shorter than us. Though that's true for everyone for Sammy." Sam glared at Dean, "Anyway, in order it's been Cas, Bobby, Carol, Ava, me, and then Sam as babysitter for our previous family get-togethers. You're up to bat. Though it is kind of fun to watch them mess with you." Dean admitted.

"Ugh. Fine." Gus huffed of.

Ten minutes later he was tied in a jump rope as Robbie and Cassie took turns pulling him back and forth. Will sat and clapped.

"Fear me! I am a supernatural being of immense power! I could easily break free and destroy you."

"No." Robbie tugged on his end of the jump rope.

"Seriously, come on!"

"No." Cassie tugged on her end.

"Dean! Ava! Control your kids!" Gus shouted toward the other adults seated on the patio.

"Can't hear you, not on babysitting duty!" Ava yelled back.

Gus huffed as he tensed his shoulders and broke free, snapping the thin plastic cord as he severed his bonds.

Cassie glanced down at her Hello Kitty wristwatch. "Six minutes and fourteen seconds. New record!"

"What." Gus stared blankly at the young girl as she pulled out a notebook.

Inside was a list of names and times, Gus noticed that he had the shortest one.

"Wait, how can you write? You're, like, four."

"I'm quite gifted for my age." She stuck her tongue out at him as she wrote down the information.

Will started crying, which caught Sam's attention. He walked over and picked up the tyke. "You know they did that to all of us, apparently Cassie's been trying to figure out which one of us is the fastest." He looked at her notebook. "Not bad, but I think breaking the jump-rope requires a penalty, instead of untying it like the rest of us." Gus blinked in disbelief as the kids followed Sam back to the patio as Cas brought out a tub of icecream. He smiled and shook his head as he walked back.

Things were good. Not perfect, not to plan, but certainly the way they ought to be.

The End

Hello everyone, it's the writer here. I just wanted to thank all of you with sticking with me through this, especially everyone who commented! I plan on releasing a sequel to this that's set a few years in the future during the boys' early teen years. Sorry if the ending is a bit corny, I'm a sucker for a happy ending. Don't worry though, things aren't perfect, and there will be more conflict and drama ahead! (Plus teenage angst and all sorts of other fun high school issues!)


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